#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
716 The Day undressed—Herself— Her Garter—was of Gold— Her Petticoat—of Purple plain— Her Dimities—as old
810 Her Grace is all she has— And that, so least displays— One Art to recognize, must be, Another Art, to praise.
Not any sunny tone From any fervent zone Find entrance there - Better a grave of Balm Toward human nature’s home -
How firm Eternity must look To crumbling men like me The only Adamant Estate In all Identity - How mighty to the insecure
325 Of Tribulation, these are They, Denoted by the White— The Spangled Gowns, a lesser Ran… Of Victors—designate—
558 But little Carmine hath her face— Of Emerald scant—her Gown— Her Beauty—is the love she doth— Itself—exhibit—Mine&md ash;
863 That Distance was between Us That is not of Mile or Main— The Will it is that situates— Equator—never can—
433 Knows how to forget! But could It teach it? Easiest of Arts, they say When one learn how
610 You’ll find—it when you try to die… The Easier to let go— For recollecting such as went— You could not spare—you know.
321 Of all the Sounds despatched abro… There’s not a Charge to me Like that old measure in the Boug… That phraseless Melody—
938 Fairer through Fading—as the Day Into the Darkness dips away— Half Her Complexion of the Sun— Hindering—Haunting—Perishing—
570 I could die—to know— ’Tis a trifling knowledge— News-Boys salute the Door— Carts—joggle by—
62 “Sown in dishonor”! Ah! Indeed! May this “dishonor” be? If I were half so fine myself
XXXVII LOVE is anterior to life, Posterior to death, Initial of creation, and The exponent of breath.
537 Me prove it now—Whoever doubt Me stop to prove it—now— Make haste—the Scruple! Death be… For Opportunity—