#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
So proud she was to die It made us all ashamed That what we cherished, so unknown To her desire seemed. So satisfied to go
806 A Planted Life—diversified With Gold and Silver Pain To prove the presence of the Ore In Particles—'tis when
86 South Winds jostle them— Bumblebees come— Hover—hesitate— Dri nk, and are gone—
1670 In Winter in my Room I came upon a Worm— Pink, lank and warm— But as he was a worm
94 Angels, in the early morning May be seen the Dews among, Stooping—plucking—smiling&m da… Do the Buds to them belong?
888 When I have seen the Sun emerge From His amazing House— And leave a Day at every Door A Deed, in every place—
A drop fell on the apple tree, Another on the roof; A half a dozen kissed the eaves, And made the gables laugh. A few went out to help the brook,
432 Do People moulder equally, They bury, in the Grave? I do believe a Species As positively live
To make a prairie it takes a clove… One clover, and a bee. And revery. The revery alone will do, If bees are few.
588 I cried at Pity—not at Pain— I heard a Woman say “Poor Child”—and something in her… Convicted me—of me—
475 Doom is the House without the Doo… ’Tis entered from the Sun— And then the Ladder’s thrown away… Because Escape—is done—
69 Low at my problem bending, Another problem comes— Larger than mine—Serener— Involving statelier sums.
924 Love—is that later Thing than Dea… More previous—than Life— Confirms it at its entrance—And Usurps it—of itself—
841 A Moth the hue of this Haunts Candles in Brazil. Nature’s Experience would make Our Reddest Second pale.
An everywhere of silver, With ropes of sand To keep it from effacing The track called land.
