#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
916 His Feet are shod with Gauze— His Helmet, is of Gold, His Breast, a Single Onyx With Chrysophrase, inlaid.
I like to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step Around a pile of mountains,
LXXXIII This World is not Conclusion. A Species stands beyond — Invisible, as Music — But positive, as Sound —
926 Patience—has a quiet Outer— Patience—Look within— Is an Insect’s futile forces Infinites—between—
913 And this of all my Hopes This, is the silent end Bountiful colored, my Morning ros… Early and sere, its end
Years I had been from home, And now, before the door I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before Stare vacant into mine
816 A Death blow is a Life blow to S… Who till they died, did not alive… Who had they lived, had died but w… They died, Vitality begun.
671 She dwelleth in the Ground— Where Daffodils—abide— Her Maker—Her Metropolis— The Universe—Her Maid—
882 A Shade upon the mind there passe… As when on Noon A Cloud the mighty Sun encloses Remembering
995 This was in the White of the Year… That—was in the Green— Drifts were as difficult then to t… As Daisies now to be seen—
907 Till Death’—is narrow Loving’— The scantest Heart extant Will hold you till your privilege Of Finiteness’—be spent’—
242 When we stand on the tops of Thin… And like the Trees, look down— The smoke all cleared away from it… And Mirrors on the scene—
XXIV WHETHER my bark went down at se… Whether she met with gales, Whether to isles enchanted She bent her docile sails;
They dropped like flakes, they dro… Like petals from a rose, When suddenly across the lune A wind with fingers goes. They perished in the seamless gras…
636 The Way I read a Letter’s—this— ’Tis first—I lock the Door— And push it with my fingers—next— For transport it be sure—
