#AmericanWriters #FemaleWriters #XIXCentury
1670 In Winter in my Room I came upon a Worm— Pink, lank and warm— But as he was a worm
311 It sifts from Leaden Sieves— It powders all the Wood. It fills with Alabaster Wool The Wrinkles of the Road—
There is another sky, Ever serene and fair, And there is another sunshine, Though it be darkness there; Never mind faded forests, Austin,
543 I fear a Man of frugal Speech— I fear a Silent Man— Haranguer—I can overtake— Or Babbler—entertain—
992 The Dust behind I strove to join Unto the Disk before— But Sequence ravelled out of Soun… Like Balls upon a Floor—
Ample make this bed. Make this bed with awe; In it wait till judgment break Excellent and fair. Be its mattress straight,
156 You love me—you are sure— I shall not fear mistake— I shall not cheated wake— Some grinning morn—
XXXVII For each ecstatic instant We must an anguish pay In keen and quivering ratio To the ecstasy.
Lives he in any other world My faith cannot reply Before it was imperative ’Twas all distinct to me -
The heart asks pleasure first And then, excuse from pain– And then, those little anodynes That deaden suffering; And then, to go to sleep;
721 Behind Me’—dips Eternity’— Before Me’—Immortality’— Myself’—the Term between’— Death but the Drift of Eastern G…
XXXVI I NEVER hear the word “escape” Without a quicker blood, A sudden expectation, A flying attitude.
So much of Heaven has gone from E… That there must be a Heaven If only to enclose the Saints To Affidavit given. The Missionary to the Mole
Dying at my music! Bubble! Bubble! Hold me till the Octave’s run! Quick! Burst the Windows! Ritardando!
No brigadier throughout the year So civic as the jay. A neighbor and a warrior too, With shrill felicity Pursuing winds that censure us
