#AmericanWriters
182 If I shouldn’t be alive When the Robins come, Give the one in Red Cravat, A Memorial crumb.
844 Spring is the Period Express from God. Among the other seasons Himself abide,
XX ARCTURUS is his other name,— I ’d rather call him star! It ’s so unkind of science To go and interfere!
23 I had a guinea golden— I lost it in the sand— And tho’ the sum was simple And pounds were in the land—
107 ’Twas such a little—little boat That toddled down the bay! ’Twas such a gallant—gallant sea That beckoned it away!
I felt a cleaving in my mind As if my brain had split; I tried to match it, seam by seam, But could not make them fit. The thought behind I strove to jo…
758 These’—saw Visions’— Latch them softly’— These’—held Dimples’— Smooth them slow’—
166 I met a King this afternoon! He had not on a Crown indeed, A little Palmleaf Hat was all, And he was barefoot, I’m afraid!
The earth has many keys, Where melody is not Is the unknown peninsula. Beauty is nature’s fact. But witness for her land,
782 There is an arid Pleasure— As different from Joy— As Frost is different from Dew— Like element—are they—
496 As far from pity, as complaint— As cool to speech—as stone— As numb to Revelation As if my Trade were Bone—
473 I am ashamed’—I hide’— What right have I’—to be a Bride’… So late a Dowerless Girl’— Nowhere to hide my dazzled Face’—
1034 His Bill an Auger is, His Head, a Cap and Frill. He laboreth at every Tree A Worm, His utmost Goal.
The Hills erect their Purple Hea… The Rivers lean to see Yet Man has not of all the Throng A Curiosity.
LVIII PORTRAITS are to daily faces As an evening west To a fine, pedantic sunshine In a satin vest.