#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
156 You love me—you are sure— I shall not fear mistake— I shall not cheated wake— Some grinning morn—
Between My Country—and the Other… There is a Sea— But Flowers—negotiate between us— As Ministry.
XIV SOME things that fly there be,— Birds, hours, the bumble-bee: Of these no elegy. Some things that stay there be,—
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.
941 The Lady feeds Her little Bird At rarer intervals— The little Bird would not dissent But meekly recognize
503 Better—than Music! For I—who hea… I was used—to the Birds—before— This—was different—’Twas Translat… Of all tunes I knew—and more—
600 It troubled me as once I was— For I was once a Child— Concluding how an Atom—fell— And yet the Heavens—held—
How lonesome the Wind must feel N… When people have put out the Ligh… And everything that has an Inn Closes the shutter and goes in— How pompous the Wind must feel No…
I years had been from home, And now, before the door, I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before Stare vacant into mine
Years I had been from home, And now, before the door I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before Stare vacant into mine
Epigram THIS is my letter to the world, That never wrote to me,— The simple news that Nature told, With tender majesty.
798 She staked her Feathers—Gained an… Debated—Rose again— This time—beyond the estimate Of Envy, or of Men—
Nature, the gentlest mother, Impatient of no child, The feeblest or the waywardest, Her admonition mild In forest and the hill
19 A sepal, petal, and a thorn Upon a common summer’s morn— A flask of Dew—A Bee or two— A Breeze—a caper in the trees—
260 Read—Sweet—how others—strove— Till we—are stouter— What they—renounced— Till we—are less afraid—
