#AmericanWriters
THE BAT is dun with wrinkled wi… Like fallow article, And not a song pervades his lips, Or none perceptible. His small umbrella, quaintly halve…
97 The rainbow never tells me That gust and storm are by, Yet is she more convincing Than Philosophy.
212 Least Rivers—docile to some sea. My Caspian—thee.
229 A Burdock—clawed my Gown— Not Burdock’s—blame— But mine— Who went too near
359 I gained it so— By Climbing slow— By Catching at the Twigs that gro… Between the Bliss—and me—
A clock stopped—not the mantel’s Geneva’s farthest skill Can’t put the puppet bowing That just now dangled still. An awe came on the trinket!
982 No Other can reduce Our mortal Consequence Like the remembering it be nought A Period from hence
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.
357 God is a distant—stately Lover— Woos, as He states us—by His Son… Verily, a Vicarious Courtship— “Miles”, and “Priscilla”, were su…
668 “Nature” is what we see— The Hill—the Afternoon— Squirrel—Eclipse—the Bumble bee— Nay—Nature is Heaven—
173 A fuzzy fellow, without feet, Yet doth exceeding run! Of velvet, is his Countenance, And his Complexion, dun!
770 I lived on Dread— To Those who know The Stimulus there is In Danger—Other impetus
945 This is a Blossom of the Brain— A small—italic Seed Lodged by Design or Happening The Spirit fructified—
200 I stole them from a Bee— Because—Thee— Sweet plea— He pardoned me!
548 Death is potential to that Man Who dies—and to his friend— Beyond that—unconspicuous To Anyone but God—