#AmericanWriters
39 It did not surprise me— So I said—or thought— She will stir her pinions And the nest forgot,
819 All I may, if small, Do it not display Larger for the Totalness— ’Tis Economy
I hide myself within my flower, That wearing on your breast, You, unsuspecting, wear me too - And angels know the rest. I hide myself within my flower,
567 He gave away his Life— To Us—Gigantic Sum— A trifle—in his own esteem— But magnified—by Fame—
612 It would have starved a Gnat— To live so small as I— And yet I was a living Child— With Food’s necessity
133 As Children bid the Guest “Good… And then reluctant turn— My flowers raise their pretty lips… Then put their nightgowns on.
283 A Mien to move a Queen— Half Child—Half Heroine— An Orleans in the Eye That puts its manner by
76 Exultation is the going Of an inland soul to sea, Past the houses—past the headlands… Into deep Eternity—
169 In Ebon Box, when years have flow… To reverently peer, Wiping away the velvet dust Summers have sprinkled there!
923 How the Waters closed above Him We shall never know— How He stretched His Anguish to… That—is covered too—
A Wind that rose Though not a Leaf In any Forest stirred But with itself did cold engage Beyond the Realm of Bird -
988 The Definition of Beauty is That Definition is none— Of Heaven, easing Analysis, Since Heaven and He are one.
645 Bereavement in their death to feel Whom We have never seen— A Vital Kinsmanship import Our Soul and theirs—between—
Nature the gentlest mother is, Impatient of no child, The feeblest of the waywardest. Her admonition mild In forest and the hill
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…
