#AmericanWriters
541 Some such Butterfly be seen On Brazilian Pampas— Just at noon—no later—Sweet— Then—the License closes—
939 What I see not, I better see— Through Faith—my Hazel Eye Has periods of shutting— But, No lid has Memory—
Declaiming Waters none may dread… But Waters that are still Are so for that most fatal cause In Nature– they are full –
XXX WE play at paste, Till qualified for pearl, Then drop the paste, And deem ourself a fool.
Some Days retired from the rest In soft distinction lie The Day that a Companion came Or was obliged to die
366 Although I put away his life— An Ornament too grand For Forehead low as mine, to wear… This might have been the Hand
24 There is a morn by men unseen— Whose maids upon remoter green Keep their Seraphic May— And all day long, with dance and g…
675 Essential Oilsare wrung The Attar from the Rose Be not expressed by Sunsalone It is the gift of Screws
Before you thought of spring, Except as a surmise, You see, God bless his suddenness… A fellow in the skies Of independent hues,
991 She sped as Petals of a Rose Offended by the Wind— A frail Aristocrat of Time Indemnity to find—
54 If I should die, And you should live— And time should gurgle on— And morn should beam—
926 Patience’—has a quiet Outer’— Patience’—Look within’— Is an Insect’s futile forces Infinites’—between’—
A toad can die of light! Death is the common right Of toads and men,— Of earl and midge The privilege.
708 I sometimes drop it, for a Quick— The Thought to be alive— Anonymous Delight to know— And Madder—to conceive—
774 It is a lonesome Glee— Yet sanctifies the Mind— With fair association— Afar upon the Wind