#AmericanWriters
111 The Bee is not afraid of me. I know the Butterfly. The pretty people in the Woods Receive me cordially—
XXV Wild nights—Wild nights! Were I with thee Wild nights should be Our luxury!
253 You see I cannot see—your lifetim… I must guess— How many times it ache for me—toda… How many times for my far sake
663 Again—his voice is at the door— I feel the old Degree— I hear him ask the servant For such an one—as me—
After a hundred years Nobody knows the place,— Agony, that enacted there, Motionless as peace. Weeds triumphant ranged,
127 “Houses”—so the Wise Men tell me— “Mansions”! Mansions must be warm… Mansions cannot let the tears in, Mansions must exclude the storm!
717 The Beggar Lad—dies early— It’s Somewhat in the Cold— And Somewhat in the Trudging feet… And haply, in the World—
MY cocoon tightens, colors tease, I 'm feeling for the air; A dim capacity for wings Degrades the dress I wear. A power of butterfly must be
132 I bring an unaccustomed wine To lips long parching Next to mine, And summon them to drink;
54 If I should die, And you should live— And time should gurgle on— And morn should beam—
LXV GOOD night! which put the candle… A jealous zephyr, not a doubt. Ah! friend, you little knew How long at that celestial wick
265 Where Ships of Purple—gently toss… On Seas of Daffodil— Fantastic Sailors—mingle— And then—the Wharf is still!
698 Life—is what we make of it— Death—we do not know— Christ’s acquaintance with Him Justify Him—though—
Tell all the Truth but tell it sl… Success in Circuit lies Too bright for our infirm Delight The Truth’s superb surprise As Lightning to the Children ease…
THE BAT is dun with wrinkled wi… Like fallow article, And not a song pervades his lips, Or none perceptible. His small umbrella, quaintly halve…