#AmericanWriters
908 ’Tis Sunrise—Little Maid—Hast T… No Station in the Day? ’Twas not thy wont, to hinder so— Retrieve thine industry—
541 Some such Butterfly be seen On Brazilian Pampas— Just at noon—no later—Sweet— Then—the License closes—
XL I NEVER lost as much but twice, And that was in the sod; Twice have I stood a beggar Before the door of God!
797 By my Window have I for Scenery Just a Sea—with a Stem— If the Bird and the Farmer—deem i… The Opinion will serve—for them—
918 Only a Shrine, but Mine— I made the Taper shine— Madonna dim, to whom all Feet may… Regard a Nun—
631 Ourselves were wed one summer’—dea… Your Vision’—was in June’— And when Your little Lifetime fai… I wearied’—too’—of mine’—
809 Unable are the Loved to die For Love is Immortality, Nay, it is Deity— Unable they that love—to die
989 Gratitude—is not the mention Of a Tenderness, But its still appreciation Out of Plumb of Speech.
XXV Wild nights—Wild nights! Were I with thee Wild nights should be Our luxury!
185 “Faith” is a fine invention When Gentlemen can see— But Microscopes are prudent In an Emergency.
309 For largest Woman’s Hearth I kne… ’Tis little I can do— And yet the largest Woman’s Heart Could hold an Arrow—too—
730 Defrauded I a Butterfly— The lawful Heir—for Thee—
81 We should not mind so small a flow… Except it quiet bring Our little garden that we lost Back to the Lawn again.
338 I know that He exists. Somewhere—in Silence— He has hid his rare life From our gross eyes.
Elysium is as far as to The very nearest Room If in that Room a Friend await Felicity or Doom— What fortitude the Soul contains