#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
159 A little bread—a crust—a crumb— A little trust—a demijohn— Can keep the soul alive— Not portly, mind! but breathing—wa…
788 Joy to have merited the Pain— To merit the Release— Joy to have perished every step— To Compass Paradise—
256 If I’m lost—now That I was found— Shall still my transport be— That once—on me—those Jasper Gate…
I have no life but this, To lead it here; Nor any death, but lest Dispelled from there; Nor tie to earths to come,
48 Once more, my now bewildered Dove Bestirs her puzzled wings Once more her mistress, on the dee… Her troubled question flings—
148 All overgrown by cunning moss, All interspersed with weed, The little cage of “Currer Bell” In quiet “Haworth” laid.
543 I fear a Man of frugal Speech— I fear a Silent Man— Haranguer—I can overtake— Or Babbler—entertain—
116 I had some things that I called m… And God, that he called his, Till, recently a rival Claim Disturbed these amities.
XXIX THE nearest dream recedes, unreal… The heaven we chase Like the June bee Before the school—boy
119 Talk with prudence to a Beggar Of “Potose,” and the mines! Reverently, to the Hungry Of your viands, and your wines!
958 We met as Sparks—Diverging Flint… Sent various—scattered ways— We parted as the Central Flint Were cloven with an Adze—
16 I would distil a cup, And bear to all my friends, Drinking to her no more astir, By beck, or burn, or moor!
A long, long sleep, a famous sleep That makes no show for dawn By strech of limb or stir of lid,— An independent one. Was ever idleness like this?
213 Did the Harebell loose her girdle To the lover Bee Would the Bee the Harebell hallow Much as formerly?
150 She died—this was the way she died… And when her breath was done Took up her simple wardrobe And started for the sun—