#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
Could mortal lip divine The undeveloped Freight Of a delivered syllable ‘Twould crumble with the weight.
Epigram THIS is my letter to the world, That never wrote to me,— The simple news that Nature told, With tender majesty.
No brigadier throughout the year So civic as the jay. A neighbor and a warrior too, With shrill felicity Pursuing winds that censure us
To make a prairie it takes a clove… One clover, and a bee. And revery. The revery alone will do, If bees are few.
233 The Lamp burns sure—within— Tho’ Serfs—supply the Oil— It matters not the busy Wick— At her phosphoric toil!
The dying need but little, dear,— A glass of water’s all, A flower’s unobtrusive face To punctuate the wall, A fan, perhaps, a friend’s regret,
7 The feet of people walking home With gayer sandals go— The Crocus—til she rises The Vassal of the snow—
There’s been a death in the opposi… As lately as to-day. I know it by the numb look Such houses have alway. The neighbors rustle in and out,
The Hills in Purple syllables The Day’s Adventures tell To little Groups of Continents Just going Home from School.
590 Did you ever stand in a Cavern’s… Widths out of the Sun— And look—and shudder, and block yo… And deem to be alone
XVII WHEN night is almost done, And sunrise grows so near That we can touch the spaces, It ’s time to smooth the hair
955 The Hollows round His eager Eyes Were Pages where to read Pathetic Histories—although Himself had not complained.
947 Of Tolling Bell I ask the cause? “A Soul has gone to Heaven” I’m answered in a lonesome tone— Is Heaven then a Prison?
230 We—Bee and I—live by the quaffing… ’Tisn’t all Hock—with us— Life has its Ale— But it’s many a lay of the Dim Bu…
767 To offer brave assistance To Lives that stand alone— When One has failed to stop them— Is Human—but Divine
