#AmericanWriters
XIX I STARTED early, took my dog, And visited the sea; The mermaids in the basement Came out to look at me,
192 Poor little Heart! Did they forget thee? Then dinna care! Then dinna care! Proud little Heart!
27 Morns like these—we parted— Noons like these—she rose— Fluttering first—then firmer To her fair repose.
725 Where Thou art—that—is Home— Cashmere—or Calvary—the same— Degree—or Shame— I scarce esteem Location’s Name—
154 Except to Heaven, she is nought. Except for Angels—lone. Except to some wide-wandering Bee A flower superfluous blown.
329 So glad we are’—a Stranger’d deem ’Twas sorry, that we were’— For where the Holiday should be There publishes a Tear’—
62 “Sown in dishonor”! Ah! Indeed! May this “dishonor” be? If I were half so fine myself
466 ’Tis little I—could care for Pear… Who own the ample sea— Or Brooches—when the Emperor— With Rubies—pelteth me—
959 A loss of something ever felt I— The first that I could recollect Bereft I was—of what I knew not Too young that any should suspect
853 When One has given up One’s life The parting with the rest Feels easy, as when Day lets go Entirely the West
864 The Robin for the Crumb Returns no syllable But long records the Lady’s name In Silver Chronicle.
383 Exhiliration—is within— There can no Outer Wine So royally intoxicate As that diviner Brand
590 Did you ever stand in a Cavern’s… Widths out of the Sun— And look—and shudder, and block yo… And deem to be alone
385 Smiling back from Coronation May be Luxury— On the Heads that started with us… Being’s Peasantry—
Ample make this bed. Make this bed with awe; In it wait till judgment break Excellent and fair. Be its mattress straight,