#AmericanWriters
The pedigree of honey Does not concern the bee; A clover, any time, to him Is aristocracy.
477 No Man can compass a Despair— As round a Goalless Road No faster than a Mile at once The Traveller proceed—
233 The Lamp burns sure—within— Tho’ Serfs—supply the Oil— It matters not the busy Wick— At her phosphoric toil!
442 God made a little Gentian— It tried—to be a Rose— And failed—and all the Summer lau… But just before the Snows
XXI HE ate and drank the precious wor… His spirit grew robust; He knew no more that he was poor, Nor that his frame was dust.
‘Faithful to the end’ Amended From the Heavenly Clause - Constancy with a Proviso Constancy abhors - ‘Crowns of Life’ are servile Priz…
12 The morns are meeker than they wer… The nuts are getting brown— The berry’s cheek is plumper— The Rose is out of town.
The Butterfly’s Assumption Gown In Chrysoprase Apartments hung This afternoon put on— How condescending to descend And be of Buttercups the friend
We grow accustomed to the Dark - When light is put away - As when the Neighbor holds the La… To witness her Goodbye - A Moment - We uncertain step
547 I’ve seen a Dying Eye Run round and round a Room— In search of Something—as it seem… Then Cloudier become—
‘Faith’ is a fine invention When Gentlemen can see’— But Microscopes are prudent In an Emergency.
184 A transport one cannot contain May yet a transport be— Though God forbid it lift the lid… Unto its Ecstasy!
A thought went up my mind to-day That I have had before, But did not finish,—some way back, I could not fix the year, Nor where it went, nor why it came
A slash of Blue— A sweep of Gray— Some scarlet patches on the way, Compose an Evening Sky— A little purple—slipped between—
A little Dog that wags his tail And knows no other joy Of such a little Dog am I Reminded by a Boy Who gambols all the living Day