#AmericanWriters
796 Who Giants know, with lesser Men Are incomplete, and shy— For Greatness, that is ill at eas… In minor Company—
Apparently with no surprise, To any happy flower, The frost beheads it at its play, In accidental power. The blond assassin passes on.
516 Beauty—be not caused—It Is— Chase it, and it ceases— Chase it not, and it abides— Overtake the Creases
Nature rarer uses yellow Than another hue; Saves she all of that for sunsets,… Prodigal of blue, Spending scarlet like a woman,
293 I got so I could take his name— Without—Tremendous gain— That Stop-sensation—on my Soul— And Thunder—in the Room—
109 By a flower—By a letter— By a nimble love— If I weld the Rivet faster— Final fast—above—
763 He told a homely tale And spotted it with tears— Upon his infant face was set The Cicatrice of years—
933 Two Travellers perishing in Snow The Forests as they froze Together heard them strengthening Each other with the words
Epigram THIS is my letter to the world, That never wrote to me,— The simple news that Nature told, With tender majesty.
229 A Burdock—clawed my Gown— Not Burdock’s—blame— But mine— Who went too near
LV I envy seas whereon he rides, I envy spokes of wheels Of chariots that him convey, I envy speechless hills
339 I tend my flowers for thee— Bright Absentee! My Fuchsia’s Coral Seams Rip—while the Sower—dreams—
Luck is not chance It’s Toil Fortune’s expensive smile Is earned The Father of the Mine
121 As Watchers hang upon the East, As Beggars revel at a feast By savory Fancy spread— As brooks in deserts babble sweet
302 Like Some Old fashioned Miracle When Summertime is done— Seems Summer’s Recollection And the Affairs of June