Sarah Morgan Bryan Piatt
American poet (1836–1919)
- There stretch'd a sleeping army. One by one,
They took their places until thousands met;
No leader's stars flash'd on before, and none
Lean'd on his sword or stagger'd with his gun --
I wonder if their feet have rested yet!
- My mother says I must not pass
Too near that glass;
She is afraid that I will see
A little witch that looks like me,
With a red mouth to whisper low
The very thing I should not know.
- The Witch in the Glass (1881).
- This was your butterfly, you see—
His fine wings made him vain:
The caterpillars crawl, but he
Passed them in rich disdain.—
My pretty boy says, “Let him be
Only a worm again!
- After Wings (1892).
- Other suns will shine as golden,
Other skies be just as blue;
Other south winds blow as softly,
Gently drinking up the dew.
- To-day, Stanza 1.
- All the glories of the sunset,
In the sunrise one may see;
That which others call the dawning
Is the night for you and me.
- To-day, Stanza 3.
- If this be all, for which I've listened long,
Oh, spirit of the dew!
You did not sing to Shelley such a song
As Shelley sung to you.
- A Word With a Skylark, lines 1-4.
- Yet, with this ruined Old World for a nest,
Worm-eaten through and through,-
- A Word With a Skylark, lines 5-6.