#AmericanWriters
188 Make me a picture of the sun— So I can hang it in my room— And make believe I’m getting warm When others call it “Day”!
682 'Twould ease — a Butterfly — Elate — a Bee — Thou'rt neither — Neither — thy capacity —
234 You’re right—“the way is narrow”— And “difficult the Gate”— And “few there be”—Correct again— That “enter in—thereat”—
711 Strong Draughts of Their Refresh… To drink—enables Mine Through Desert or the Wilderness As bore it Sealed Wine—
130 These are the days when Birds com… A very few—a Bird or two— To take a backward look. These are the days when skies resu…
XVII WHEN night is almost done, And sunrise grows so near That we can touch the spaces, It ’s time to smooth the hair
Fame is a fickle food Upon a shifting plate Whose table once a Guest but not The second time is set.
I’m saying every day “If I should be a Queen, tomorrow… I’d do this way — And so I deck, a little, If it be, I wake a Bourbon,
380 There is a flower that Bees prefe… And Butterflies—desire— To gain the Purple Democrat The Humming Bird—aspire—
203 He forgot—and I—remembered— ’Twas an everyday affair— Long ago as Christ and Peter— “Warmed them” at the “Temple fire…
On this wondrous sea Sailing silently, Ho! Pilot, ho! Knowest thou the shore Where no breakers roar—
Part One: Life LI IT tossed and tossed,— A little brig I knew,— O’ertook by blast,
168 If the foolish, call them “flowers… Need the wiser, tell? If the Savants “Classify” them It is just as well!
591 To interrupt His Yellow Plan The Sun does not allow Caprices of the Atmosphere— And even when the Snow
301 I reason, Earth is short— And Anguish—absolute— And many hurt, But, what of that?