#AmericanWriters
782 There is an arid Pleasure— As different from Joy— As Frost is different from Dew— Like element—are they—
XVIII READ, sweet, how others strove, Till we are stouter; What they renounced, Till we are less afraid;
864 The Robin for the Crumb Returns no syllable But long records the Lady’s name In Silver Chronicle.
102 Great Caesar! Condescend The Daisy, to receive, Gathered by Cato’s Daughter, With your majestic leave!
The Face we choose to miss - Be it but for a Day As absent as a Hundred Years, When it has rode away.
15 The Guest is gold and crimson— An Opal guest and gray— Of Ermine is his doublet— His Capuchin gay—
250 I shall keep singing! Birds will pass me On their way to Yellower Climes— Each—with a Robin’s expectation—
The only ghost I ever saw Was dressed in mechlin,—so; He wore no sandal on his foot, And stepped like flakes of snow. His gait was soundless, like the b…
597 It always felt to me—a wrong To that Old Moses—done— To let him see—the Canaan— Without the entering—
522 Had I presumed to hope— The loss had been to Me A Value—for the Greatness’ Sake— As Giants—gone away—
A fuzzy fellow, without feet, Yet doth exceeding run! Of velvet, is his Countenance, And his Complexion, dun! Sometime, he dwelleth in the grass…
491 While it is alive Until Death touches it While it and I lap one Air Dwell in one Blood
339 I tend my flowers for thee— Bright Absentee! My Fuchsia’s Coral Seams Rip—while the Sower—dreams—
LX A SHADY friend for torrid days Is easier to find Than one of higher temperature For frigid hour of mind.
641 Size circumscribes—it has no room For petty furniture— The Giant tolerates no Gnat For Ease of Gianture—