#AmericanWriters
896 Of Silken Speech and Specious Sh… A Traitor is the Bee His service to the newest Grace Present continually
687 I’ll send the feather from my Hat… Who knows—but at the sight of that My Sovereign will relent? As trinket—worn by faded Child—
371 A precious’—mouldering pleasure’—'… To meet an Antique Book’— In just the Dress his Century wor… A privilege’—I think’—
273 He put the Belt around my life I heard the Buckle snap— And turned away, imperial, My Lifetime folding up—
141 Some, too fragile for winter winds The thoughtful grave encloses— Tenderly tucking them in from fros… Before their feet are cold.
404 How many Flowers fail in Wood— Or perish from the Hill— Without the privilege to know That they are Beautiful—
730 Defrauded I a Butterfly— The lawful Heir—for Thee—
354 From Cocoon forth a Butterfly As Lady from her Door Emerged—a Summer Afternoon— Repairing Everywhere—
513 Like Flowers, that heard the news… But never deemed the dripping priz… Awaited their—low Brows— Or Bees—that thought the Summer’s…
464 The power to be true to You, Until upon my face The Judgment push his Picture— Presumptuous of Your Place—
115 What Inn is this Where for the night Peculiar Traveller comes? Who is the Landlord?
There is another sky, Ever serene and fair, And there is another sunshine, Though it be darkness there; Never mind faded forests, Austin,
844 Spring is the Period Express from God. Among the other seasons Himself abide,
13 Sleep is supposed to be By souls of sanity The shutting of the eye. Sleep is the station grand
711 Strong Draughts of Their Refresh… To drink—enables Mine Through Desert or the Wilderness As bore it Sealed Wine—