#AmericanWriters
XXV BELSHAZZAR had a letter,— He never had but one; Belshazzar’s correspondent Concluded and begun
His bill an auger is, His head, a cap and frill. He laboreth at every tree,— A worm his utmost goal.
778 This that would greet—an hour ago— Is quaintest Distance—now— Had it a Guest from Paradise— Nor glow, would it, nor bow—
353 A happy lip—breaks sudden— It doesn’t state you how It contemplated—smiling— Just consummated—now—
995 This was in the White of the Year… That—was in the Green— Drifts were as difficult then to t… As Daisies now to be seen—
97 The rainbow never tells me That gust and storm are by, Yet is she more convincing Than Philosophy.
719 A South Wind—has a pathos Of individual Voice— As One detect on Landings An Emigrant’s address.
571 Must be a Woe— A loss or so— To bend the eye Best Beauty’s way—
A shady friend for torrid days Is easier to find Than one of higher temperature For frigid hour of mind. The vane a little to the east
XXIV A NARROW fellow in the grass Occasionally rides; You may have met him,—did you not? His notice sudden is.
I noticed People disappeared When but a little child - Supposed they visited remote Or settled Regions wild - But did because they died
32 When Roses cease to bloom, Sir, And Violets are done— When Bumblebees in solemn flight Have passed beyond the Sun—
No brigadier throughout the year So civic as the jay. A neighbor and a warrior too, With shrill felicity Pursuing winds that censure us
50 I haven’t told my garden yet— Lest that should conquer me. I haven’t quite the strength now To break it to the Bee—
1000 The Fingers of the Light Tapped soft upon the Town With “I am great and cannot wait So therefore let me in.”
