#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
113 Our share of night to bear— Our share of morning— Our blank in bliss to fill Our blank in scorning—
A shady friend for torrid days Is easier to find Than one of higher temperature For frigid hour of mind. The vane a little to the east
224 I've nothing else—to bring, You k… So I keep bringing These— Just as the Night keeps fetching… To our familiar eyes—
I dreaded that first robin so, But he is mastered now, And I’m accustomed to him grown,— He hurts a little, though. I thought if I could only live
514 Her smile was shaped like other sm… The Dimples ran along— And still it hurt you, as some Bi… Did hoist herself, to sing,
III SOUL, wilt thou toss again? By just such a hazard Hundreds have lost, indeed, But tens have won an all.
626 Only God—detect the Sorrow— Only God— The Jehovahs—are no Babblers— Unto God—
912 Peace is a fiction of our Faith— The Bells a Winter Night Bearing the Neighbor out of Sound That never did alight.
908 ’Tis Sunrise—Little Maid—Hast T… No Station in the Day? ’Twas not thy wont, to hinder so— Retrieve thine industry—
1670 In Winter in my Room I came upon a Worm— Pink, lank and warm— But as he was a worm
562 Conjecturing a Climate Of unsuspended Suns— Adds poignancy to Winter— The Shivering Fancy turns
938 Fairer through Fading—as the Day Into the Darkness dips away— Half Her Complexion of the Sun— Hindering—Haunting—Perishing—
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,
23 I had a guinea golden— I lost it in the sand— And tho’ the sum was simple And pounds were in the land—
808 So set its Sun in Thee What Day be dark to me— What Distance—far— So I the Ships may see
