#AmericanWriters
I’m saying every day “If I should be a Queen, tomorrow… I’d do this way — And so I deck, a little, If it be, I wake a Bourbon,
The Face we choose to miss - Be it but for a Day As absent as a Hundred Years, When it has rode away.
981 As Sleigh Bells seem in summer Or Bees, at Christmas show— So fairy—so fictitious The individuals do
874 They won’t frown always’—some swee… When I forget to tease’— They’ll recollect how cold I look… And how I just said “Please.”
227 Teach Him’—When He makes the nam… Such an one’—to say’— On his babbling’—Berry’—lips’— As should sound’—to me’—
134 Perhaps you’d like to buy a flower… But I could never sell— If you would like to borrow, Until the Daffodil
They shut me up in Prose — As when a little Girl They put me in the Closet — Because they liked me “still” — Still! Could themself have peeped…
Departed to the judgment, A mighty afternoon; Great clouds like ushers leaning, Creation looking on. The flesh surrendered, cancelled
How Human Nature dotes On what it can’t detect. The moment that a Plot is plumbed Prospective is extinct - Prospective is the friend
868 They ask but our Delight— The Darlings of the Soil And grant us all their Countenanc… For a penurious smile.
‘Faithful to the end’ Amended From the Heavenly Clause - Constancy with a Proviso Constancy abhors - ‘Crowns of Life’ are servile Priz…
897 How fortunate the Grave— All Prizes to obtain— Successful certain, if at last, First Suitor not in vain.
When Memory is full Put on the perfect Lid - This Morning’s finest syllable Presumptuous Evening said -
A happy lip—breaks sudden— It doesn’t state you how It contemplated—smiling— Just consummated—now— But this one, wears its merriment
We like March, his shoes are purp… He is new and high; Makes he mud for dog and peddler, Makes he forest dry; Knows the adder’s tongue his comin…