#AmericanWriters
12 The morns are meeker than they wer… The nuts are getting brown— The berry’s cheek is plumper— The Rose is out of town.
14 One Sister have I in our house, And one, a hedge away. There’s only one recorded, But both belong to me.
62 “Sown in dishonor”! Ah! Indeed! May this “dishonor” be? If I were half so fine myself
164 Mama never forgets her birds, Though in another tree— She looks down just as often And just as tenderly
805 This Bauble was preferred of Bees… By Butterflies admired At Heavenly—Hopeless Distances— Was justified of Bird—
841 A Moth the hue of this Haunts Candles in Brazil. Nature’s Experience would make Our Reddest Second pale.
All men for Honor hardest work But are not known to earn - Paid after they have ceased to wor… In Infamy or Urn -
How slow the Wind - how slow the sea - how late their Fathers be!
586 We talked as Girls do— Fond, and late— We speculated fair, on every subje… Of ours, none affair—
199 I’m “wife”—I’ve finished that— That other state— I’m Czar—I’m “Woman” now— It’s safer so—
229 A Burdock—clawed my Gown— Not Burdock’s—blame— But mine— Who went too near
Remorse– is Memory– awake - Her Parties all astir - A Presence of Departed Acts - At window– and at Door – Its Past - set down before the S…
We play at paste, Till qualified for pearl, Then drop the paste, And deem ourself a fool. The shapes, though, were similar,
480 “Why do I love” You, Sir? Because— The Wind does not require the Gra… To answer—Wherefore when He pass
406 Some’—Work for Immortality’— The Chiefer part, for Time’— He’—Compensates’—immediately’— The former’—Checks’—on Fame’—