#AmericanWriters
521 Endow the Living—with the Tears— You squander on the Dead, And They were Men and Women—now, Around Your Fireside—
LXXXVIII HEAVEN is what I cannot reach! The apple on the tree, Provided it do hopeless hang, That “heaven” is, to me.
40 When I count the seeds That are sown beneath, To bloom so, bye and bye— When I con the people
442 God made a little Gentian— It tried—to be a Rose— And failed—and all the Summer lau… But just before the Snows
229 A Burdock—clawed my Gown— Not Burdock’s—blame— But mine— Who went too near
730 Defrauded I a Butterfly— The lawful Heir—for Thee—
83 Heart, not so heavy as mine Wending late home— As it passed my window Whistled itself a tune—
Good night! which put the candle o… A jealous zephyr, not a doubt. Ah! friend, you little knew How long at that celestial wick The angels labored diligent;
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!
681 Soil of Flint, if steady tilled— Will refund by Hand— Seed of Palm, by Libyan Sun Fructified in Sand—
Tell all the truth but tell it sla… Success in circuit lies, Too bright for our infirm delight The truth’s superb surprise; As lightning to the children eased
228 Blazing in Gold and quenching in… Leaping like Leopards to the Sky Then at the feet of the old Horiz… Laying her spotted Face to die
785 They have a little Odor—that to m… Is metre—nay—’tis melody— And spiciest at fading—indicate— A Habit—of a Laureate—
485 To make One’s Toilette—after Dea… Has made the Toilette cool Of only Taste we cared to please Is difficult, and still—
450 Dreams—are well—but Waking’s bett… If One wake at morn— If One wake at Midnight—better— Dreaming—of the Dawn—