#AmericanWriters
70 “Arcturus” is his other name— I’d rather call him “Star.” It’s very mean of Science To go and interfere!
880 The Bird must sing to earn the Cr… What merit have the Tune No Breakfast if it guaranty The Rose content may bloom
XCVI MY life closed twice before its c… It yet remains to see If Immortality unveil A third event to me,
218 Is it true, dear Sue? Are there two? I shouldn’t like to come For fear of joggling Him!
838 Impossibility, like Wine Exhilarates the Man Who tastes it; Possibility Is flavorless—Combine
High from the earth I heard a bir… He trod upon the trees As he esteemed them trifles, And then he spied a breeze, And situated softly
517 He parts Himself’—like Leaves’— And then’—He closes up’— Then stands upon the Bonnet Of Any Buttercup’—
733 The Spirit is the Conscious Ear. We actually Hear When We inspect—that’s audible— That is admitted—Here—
825 An Hour is a Sea Between a few, and me— With them would Harbor be—
All men for Honor hardest work But are not known to earn - Paid after they have ceased to wor… In Infamy or Urn -
To lose thee, sweeter than to gain All other hearts I knew. Tis true the drought is destitute But, then, I had the dew! The Caspian has its realms of san…
Pink, small, and punctual, Aromatic, low, Covert in April, Candid in May, Dear to the moss,
Nature, the gentlest mother, Impatient of no child, The feeblest or the waywardest, Her admonition mild In forest and the hill
Apparently with no surprise, To any happy flower, The frost beheads it at its play, In accidental power. The blond assassin passes on.
563 I could not prove the Years had f… Yet confident they run Am I, from symptoms that are past And Series that are done—