Tho' my destiny be Fustian --Hers be damask fine --Tho' she wear a silver apron --I, a less divine --Still, my little Gypsy beingI would far p...
Mama never forgets her birds,Though in another tree --She looks down just as oftenAnd just as tenderlyAs when her little mortal nestWith cunning care ...
A Wounded Deer -- leaps highest --I've heard the Hunter tell --'Tis but the Ecstasy of death --And then the Brake is still!The Smitten Rock th...
I met a King this afternoon!He had not on a Crown indeed,A little Palmleaf Hat was all,And he was barefoot, I'm afraid!But sure I am he Ermine wor...
To learn the Transport by the PainAs Blind Men learn the sun!To die of thirst -- suspectingThat Brooks in Meadows run!To stay the homesick -- homesick...
If the foolish, call them "flowers" --Need the wiser, tell?If the Savants "Classify" themIt is just as well!Those who read the &qu...
In Ebon Box, when years have flownTo reverently peer,Wiping away the velvet dustSummers have sprinkled there!To hold a letter to the light --Grown Taw...
Portraits are to daily facesAs an Evening West,To a fine, pedantic sunshine --In a satin Vest!...
Wait till the Majesty of DeathInvests so mean a brow!Almost a powdered FootmanMight dare to touch it now!Wait till in Everlasting RobesThat Democrat i...
'Tis so much joy! 'Tis so much joy!If I should fail, what poverty!And yet, as poor as I,Have ventured all upon a throw!Have gained! Yes! Hesit...