#AmericanWriters
XXVII I’m Nobody! Who are you? Are you—Nobody—too? Then there’s a pair of us! Don’t tell! they’d advertise—you k…
634 You’ll know Her—by Her Foot— The smallest Gamboge Hand With Fingers—where the Toes shoul… Would more affront the Sand—
947 Of Tolling Bell I ask the cause? “A Soul has gone to Heaven” I’m answered in a lonesome tone— Is Heaven then a Prison?
68 Ambition cannot find him. Affection doesn’t know How many leagues of nowhere Lie between them now.
988 The Definition of Beauty is That Definition is none— Of Heaven, easing Analysis, Since Heaven and He are one.
XXV Wild nights—Wild nights! Were I with thee Wild nights should be Our luxury!
627 The Tint I cannot take—is best— The Color too remote That I could show it in Bazaar— A Guinea at a sight—
That only lasts an hour How much '— how little '— is Within our power
If Nature smiles - the Mother mu… I’m sure, at many a whim Of Her eccentric Family - Is She so much to blame?
218 Is it true, dear Sue? Are there two? I shouldn’t like to come For fear of joggling Him!
388 Take your Heaven further on— This—to Heaven divine Has gone— Had You earlier blundered in Possibly, e’en You had seen
321 Of all the Sounds despatched abro… There’s not a Charge to me Like that old measure in the Boug… That phraseless Melody—
874 They won’t frown always—some sweet… When I forget to tease— They’ll recollect how cold I look… And how I just said “Please.”
XXX WE play at paste, Till qualified for pearl, Then drop the paste, And deem ourself a fool.
225 Jesus! thy Crucifix Enable thee to guess The smaller size! Jesus! thy second face