#AmericanWriters
755 No Bobolink—reverse His Singing When the only Tree Ever He minded occupying By the Farmer be—
728 Let Us play Yesterday— I—the Girl at school— You—and Eternity—the Untold Tale—
348 I dreaded that first Robin, so, But He is mastered, now, I’m accustomed to Him grown, He hurts a little, though—
567 He gave away his Life— To Us—Gigantic Sum— A trifle—in his own esteem— But magnified—by Fame—
I counted till they danced so Their slippers leaped the town, And then I took a pencil To note the rebels down. And then they grew so jolly
138 Pigmy seraphs—gone astray— Velvet people from Vevay— Balles from some lost summer day— Bees exclusive Coterie—
LXIII TALK with prudence to a beggar Of “Potosi” and the mines! Reverently to the hungry Of your viands and your wines!
404 How many Flowers fail in Wood— Or perish from the Hill— Without the privilege to know That they are Beautiful—
Could mortal lip divine The undeveloped Freight Of a delivered syllable ‘Twould crumble with the weight.
27 Morns like these—we parted— Noons like these—she rose— Fluttering first—then firmer To her fair repose.
460 I know where Wells grow’—Droughtl… Deep dug’—for Summer days’— Where Mosses go no more away’— And Pebble’—safely plays’—
914 I cannot be ashamed Because I cannot see The love you offer— Magnitude
1068 Further in Summer than the Birds Pathetic from the Grass A minor Nation celebrates Its unobtrusive Mass.
LX The grass so little has to do,— A sphere of simple green, With only butterflies to brood, And bees to entertain,
446 I showed her Heights she never sa… “Would’st Climb,” I said? She said—"Not so"— “With me—” I said—With me?
