#AmericanWriters
Escape is such a thankful Word I often in the Night Consider it unto myself No spectacle in sight Escape - it is the Basket
206 The Flower must not blame the Bee… That seeketh his felicity Too often at her door— But teach the Footman from Vevay—
550 I cross till I am weary A Mountain—in my mind— More Mountains—then a Sea— More Seas—And then
FORBIDDEN fruit a flavor has That lawful orchards mocks; How luscious lies the pea within The pod that Duty locks!
1670 In Winter in my Room I came upon a Worm— Pink, lank and warm— But as he was a worm
844 Spring is the Period Express from God. Among the other seasons Himself abide,
878 The Sun is gay or stark According to our Deed. If Merry, He is merrier— If eager for the Dead
41 I robbed the Woods— The trusting Woods. The unsuspecting Trees Brought out their Burs and mosses
XXIII A bird came down the walk: He did not know I saw; He bit an angle-worm in halves And ate the fellow, raw.
543 I fear a Man of frugal Speech— I fear a Silent Man— Haranguer—I can overtake— Or Babbler—entertain—
229 A Burdock—clawed my Gown— Not Burdock’s—blame— But mine— Who went too near
192 Poor little Heart! Did they forget thee? Then dinna care! Then dinna care! Proud little Heart!
949 Under the Light, yet under, Under the Grass and the Dirt, Under the Beetle’s Cellar Under the Clover’s Root,
987 The Leaves like Women interchange Exclusive Confidence— Somewhat of nods and somewhat Portentous inference.
263 Is all that pins the Soul That stands for Deity, to Mine, Upon my side the Veil— Once witnessed of the Gauze—
