#AmericanWriters
363 I went to thank Her— But She Slept— Her Bed—a funneled Stone— With Nosegays at the Head and Fo…
247 What would I give to see his face… I’d give—I’d give my life—of cour… But that is not enough! Stop just a minute—let me think!
136 Have you got a Brook in your litt… Where bashful flowers blow, And blushing birds go down to drin… And shadows tremble so—
I taste a liquor never brewed, From tankards scooped in pearl; Not all the vats upon the Rhine Yield such an alcohol! Inebriate of air am I,
This is the land the sunset washes… These are the banks of the Yellow… Where it rose, or whither it rushe… These are the western mystery! Night after night her purple traff…
682 'Twould ease — a Butterfly — Elate — a Bee — Thou'rt neither — Neither — thy capacity —
526 To hear an Oriole sing May be a common thing— Or only a divine. It is not of the Bird
111 The Bee is not afraid of me. I know the Butterfly. The pretty people in the Woods Receive me cordially—
We like March, his shoes are purp… He is new and high; Makes he mud for dog and peddler, Makes he forest dry; Knows the adder’s tongue his comin…
I had not minded—Walls— Were Universe—one Rock— And far I heard his silver Call The other side the Block— I’d tunnel—till my Groove
845 Be Mine the Doom— Sufficient Fame— To perish in Her Hand!
931 Noon—is the Hinge of Day— Evening—the Tissue Door— Morning—the East compelling the s… Till all the World is ajar—
573 The Test of Love—is Death— Our Lord—"so loved"—it saith— What Largest Lover—hath Another—doth—
The day came slow, till five o’clo… Then sprang before the hills, Like hindered rubies, or the light… A sudden musket spills. The purple could not keep the east…
The Black Berry—wears a Thorn in… But no Man heard Him cry— He offers His Berry, just the sam… To Partridge—and to Boy— He sometimes holds upon the Fence…