#AmericanWriters #FemaleWriters #XIXCentury
One need not be a chamber to be ha… One need not be a house; The brain has corridors surpassing Material place. Far safer, of a midnight meeting
78 A poor—torn heart—a tattered heart… That sat it down to rest— Nor noticed that the Ebbing Day Flowed silver to the West—
Remembrance has a Rear and Front… ’Tis something like a House - It has a Garret also For Refuse and the Mouse. Besides the deepest Cellar
Awake ye muses nine, sing me a str… Unwind the solemn twine, and tie m… Oh the Earth was made for lovers,… For sighing, and gentle whispering… All things do go a courting, in ea…
588 I cried at Pity—not at Pain— I heard a Woman say “Poor Child”—and something in her… Convicted me—of me—
The Soul unto itself Is an imperial friend— Or the most agonizing Spy— An Enemy—could send— Secure against its own—
746 Never for Society He shall seek in vain— Who His own acquaintance Cultivate—Of Men
659 That first Day, when you praised… And said that I was strong— And could be mighty, if I liked— That Day—the Days among—
XVI TO fight aloud is very brave, But gallanter, I know, Who charge within the bosom, The cavalry of woe.
401 What Soft—Cherubic Creatures— These Gentlewomen are— One would as soon assault a Plush… Or violate a Star—
94 Angels, in the early morning May be seen the Dews among, Stooping—plucking—smiling&m da… Do the Buds to them belong?
840 I cannot buy it—’tis not sold— There is no other in the World— Mine was the only one I was so happy I forgot
LVIII PORTRAITS are to daily faces As an evening west To a fine, pedantic sunshine In a satin vest.
681 Soil of Flint, if steady tilled— Will refund by Hand— Seed of Palm, by Libyan Sun Fructified in Sand—
168 If the foolish, call them “flowers… Need the wiser, tell? If the Savants “Classify” them It is just as well!