#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
September’s Baccalaureate A combination is Of Crickets– Crows– and Retros… And a dissembling Breeze That hints without assuming -
385 Smiling back from Coronation May be Luxury— On the Heads that started with us… Being’s Peasantry—
XXXVII LOVE is anterior to life, Posterior to death, Initial of creation, and The exponent of breath.
Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself,
Pink, small, and punctual, Aromatic, low, Covert in April, Candid in May, Dear to the moss,
818 I could not drink it, Sweet, Till You had tasted first, Though cooler than the Water was The Thoughtfullness of Thirst.
How slow the Wind - how slow the sea - how late their Fathers be!
Immured in Heaven! What a Cell! Let every Bondage be, Thou sweetest of the Universe, Like that which ravished thee!
837 How well I knew Her not Whom not to know has been A Bounty in prospective, now Next Door to mine the Pain.
410 The first Day’s Night had come— And grateful that a thing So terrible—had been endured— I told my Soul to sing—
938 Fairer through Fading—as the Day Into the Darkness dips away— Half Her Complexion of the Sun— Hindering—Haunting—Perishing—
991 She sped as Petals of a Rose Offended by the Wind— A frail Aristocrat of Time Indemnity to find—
XXXVIII THROUGH the straight pass of su… The martyrs even trod, Their feet upon temptation, Their faces upon God.
11 I never told the buried gold Upon the hill—that lies— I saw the sun—his plunder done Crouch low to guard his prize.
228 Blazing in Gold and quenching in… Leaping like Leopards to the Sky Then at the feet of the old Horiz… Laying her spotted Face to die
