#AmericanWriters
Apparently with no surprise, To any happy flower, The frost beheads it at its play, In accidental power. The blond assassin passes on.
185 “Faith” is a fine invention When Gentlemen can see— But Microscopes are prudent In an Emergency.
415 Sunset at Night—is natural— But Sunset on the Dawn Reverses Nature—Master— So Midnight's—due—at Noon.
XXXVI I NEVER hear the word “escape” Without a quicker blood, A sudden expectation, A flying attitude.
LXXXIX A WORD is dead When it is said, Some say. I say it just
913 And this of all my Hopes This, is the silent end Bountiful colored, my Morning ros… Early and sere, its end
Me prove it now —Whoever doubt Me stop to prove it —now — Make haste —the Scruple! Death be… For Opportunity — The River reaches to my feet —
LXVII If I should die, And you should live, And time should gurgle on, And morn should beam,
When Memory is full Put on the perfect Lid - This Morning’s finest syllable Presumptuous Evening said -
XVII SHE rose to his requirement, drop… The playthings of her life To take the honorable work Of woman and of wife.
885 Our little Kinsmen’—after Rain In plenty may be seen, A Pink and Pulpy multitude The tepid Ground upon.
153 Dust is the only Secret— Death, the only One You cannot find out all about In his “native town.”
356 The Day that I was crowned Was like the other Days— Until the Coronation came— And then—'twas Otherwise—
395 Reverse cannot befall That fine Prosperity Whose Sources are interior— As soon—Adversity
453 Love—thou art high— I cannot climb thee— But, were it Two— Who know but we—