#AmericanWriters
XXXVI I NEVER hear the word “escape” Without a quicker blood, A sudden expectation, A flying attitude.
The Mushroom is the Elf of Plant… At Evening, it is not At Morning, in a Truffled Hut It stop opon a Spot As if it tarried always
910 Experience is the Angled Road Preferred against the Mind By—Paradox—the Mind itself— Presuming it to lead
466 ’Tis little I—could care for Pear… Who own the ample sea— Or Brooches—when the Emperor— With Rubies—pelteth me—
Witchcraft has not a Pedigree ’Tis early as our Breath And mourners meet it going out The moment of our death—
900 What did They do since I saw The… Were They industrious? So many questions to put Them Have I the eagerness
42 A Day! Help! Help! Another Day! Your prayers, oh Passer by! From such a common ball as this Might date a Victory!
481 The Himmaleh was known to stoop Unto the Daisy low— Transported with Compassion That such a Doll should grow
848 Just as He spoke it from his Hand… This Edifice remain— A Turret more, a Turret less Dishonor his Design—
You said that I “was Great”'—one… Then “Great” it be’—if that pleas… Or Small’—or any size at all’— Nay’—I’m the size suit Thee’— Tall’—like the Stag’—would that?
713 Fame of Myself, to justify, All other Plaudit be Superfluous—An Incense Beyond Necessity—
940 On that dear Frame the Years had… Yet precious as the House In which We first experienced Lig… The Witnessing, to Us—
18 The Gentian weaves her fringes— The Maple’s loom is red— My departing blossoms Obviate parade.
31 Summer for thee, grant I may be When Summer days are flown! Thy music still, when Whipporwill And Oriole—are done!
262 The lonesome for they know not Wh… The Eastern Exiles—be— Who strayed beyond the Amber line Some madder Holiday—
