#AmericanWriters
FATE slew him, but he did not dr… She felled’—he did not fall’— Impaled him on her fiercest stakes… He neutralized them all. She stung him, sapped his firm adv…
358 If any sink, assure that this, now… Failed like Themselves—and consci… Grew by the Fact, and not the Und… How Weakness passed—or Force—aros…
866 Fame is the tine that Scholars le… Upon their Setting Names— The Iris not of Occident That disappears as comes—
LX The grass so little has to do,— A sphere of simple green, With only butterflies to brood, And bees to entertain,
The Clover’s simple Fame Remembered of the Cow - Is better than enameled Realms Of notability. Renown perceives itself
The butterfly obtains But little sympathy Though favorably mentioned In Entomology - Because he travels freely
123 Many cross the Rhine In this cup of mine. Sip old Frankfort air From my brown Cigar.
373 I’m saying every day “If I should be a Queen, tomorrow… I’d do this way— And so I deck, a little,
I measure every Grief I meet With narrow, probing, Eyes— I wonder if It weighs like Mine— Or has an Easier size. I wonder if They bore it long—
Success is counted sweetest By those who ne’er succeed. To comprehend a nectar Requires sorest need. Not one of all the purple Host
319 Of Bronze — and Blaze — The North — tonight — So adequate — it forms — So preconcerted with itself —
924 Love—is that later Thing than Dea… More previous—than Life— Confirms it at its entrance—And Usurps it—of itself—
I know a place where summer strive… With such a practised frost, She each year leads her daisies ba… Recording briefly, ‘Lost.’ But when the south wind stirs the…
LXII BEFORE I got my eye put out, I liked as well to see As other creatures that have eyes, And know no other way.
514 Her smile was shaped like other sm… The Dimples ran along— And still it hurt you, as some Bi… Did hoist herself, to sing,