#AmericanWriters
Could Hope inspect her Basis Her Craft were done - Has a fictitious Charter Or it has none - Balked in the vastest instance
Two butterflies went out at noon And waltzed above a stream, Then stepped straight through the… And rested on a beam; And then together bore away
A drop fell on the apple tree, Another on the roof; A half a dozen kissed the eaves, And made the gables laugh. A few went out to help the brook,
883 The Poets light but Lamps— Themselves—go out— The Wicks they stimulate— If vital Light
His bill an auger is, His head, a cap and frill. He laboreth at every tree,— A worm his utmost goal.
To die—takes just a little while— They say it doesn't hurt— It's only fainter—by degrees— And then—it's out of sight— A darker Ribbon—for a Day—
Whole Gulfs– of Red, and Fleets… And Crews– of solid Blood – Did place upon the West– Tonight… As ’twere specific Ground - And They– appointed Creatures –
Drowning is not so pitiful As the attempt to rise. Three times, 't is said, a sinking… Comes up to face the skies, And then declines forever
356 The Day that I was crowned Was like the other Days— Until the Coronation came— And then—'twas Otherwise—
314 Nature—sometimes sears a Sapling— Sometimes—scalps a Tree— Her Green People recollect it When they do not die—
947 Of Tolling Bell I ask the cause? “A Soul has gone to Heaven” I’m answered in a lonesome tone— Is Heaven then a Prison?
354 From Cocoon forth a Butterfly As Lady from her Door Emerged—a Summer Afternoon— Repairing Everywhere—
148 All overgrown by cunning moss, All interspersed with weed, The little cage of “Currer Bell” In quiet “Haworth” laid.
961 Wert Thou but ill—that I might sh… How long a Day I could endure Though thine attention stop not on… Nor the least signal, Me assure—
763 He told a homely tale And spotted it with tears— Upon his infant face was set The Cicatrice of years—