#AmericanWriters
440 ’Tis customary as we part A trinket—to confer— It helps to stimulate the faith When Lovers be afar—
Between My Country—and the Other… There is a Sea— But Flowers—negotiate between us— As Ministry.
879 Each Second is the last Perhaps, recalls the Man Just measuring unconsciousness The Sea and Spar between.
MINE by the right of the white e… Mine by the royal seal! Mine by the sign in the scarlet pr… Bars cannot conceal! Mine, here in vision and in veto!
726 We thirst at first—’tis Nature’s… And later—when we die— A little Water supplicate— Of fingers going by—
“Sic transit gloria mundi,” “How doth the busy bee,” “Dum vivimus vivamus,” I stay mine enemy! Oh “veni, vidi, vici!”
I started early, took my dog, And visited the sea; The mermaids in the basement Came out to look at me. And frigates in the upper floor
184 A transport one cannot contain May yet a transport be— Though God forbid it lift the lid… Unto its Ecstasy!
708 I sometimes drop it, for a Quick— The Thought to be alive— Anonymous Delight to know— And Madder—to conceive—
276 Many a phrase has the English lan… I have heard but one— Low as the laughter of the Cricke… Loud, as the Thunder’s Tongue—
687 I’ll send the feather from my Hat… Who knows—but at the sight of that My Sovereign will relent? As trinket—worn by faded Child—
719 A South Wind—has a pathos Of individual Voice— As One detect on Landings An Emigrant’s address.
166 I met a King this afternoon! He had not on a Crown indeed, A little Palmleaf Hat was all, And he was barefoot, I’m afraid!
912 Peace is a fiction of our Faith— The Bells a Winter Night Bearing the Neighbor out of Sound That never did alight.
154 Except to Heaven, she is nought. Except for Angels—lone. Except to some wide-wandering Bee A flower superfluous blown.