#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
596 When I was small, a Woman died— Today—her Only Boy Went up from the Potomac— His face all Victory
591 To interrupt His Yellow Plan The Sun does not allow Caprices of the Atmosphere— And even when the Snow
24 There is a morn by men unseen— Whose maids upon remoter green Keep their Seraphic May— And all day long, with dance and g…
29 If those I loved were lost The Crier’s voice would tell me— If those I loved were found The bells of Ghent would ring—
889 Crisis is a Hair Toward which the forces creep Past which forces retrograde If it come in sleep
204 A slash of Blue— A sweep of Gray— Some scarlet patches on the way, Compose an Evening Sky—
A great Hope fell You heard no noise The Ruin was within Oh cunning wreck that told no tale And let no Witness in
852 Apology for Her Be rendered by the Bee— Herself, without a Parliament Apology for Me.
348 I would not paint—a picture— I’d rather be the One It’s bright impossibility To dwell—delicious—on—
1068 Further in Summer than the Birds Pathetic from the Grass A minor Nation celebrates Its unobtrusive Mass.
464 The power to be true to You, Until upon my face The Judgment push his Picture— Presumptuous of Your Place—
I never saw a moor, I never saw the sea; Yet now I know how the heather lo… And what a wave must be. I never spoke with God,
The heart asks pleasure first And then, excuse from pain– And then, those little anodynes That deaden suffering; And then, to go to sleep;
682 ‘Twould ease—a Butterfly— Elate—a Bee— Thou’rt neither— Neither—thy capacity—
504 You know that Portrait in the Moo… So tell me who ’tis like— The very Brow—the stooping eyes— A fog for—Say—Whose Sake?
