#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
379 Rehearsal to Ourselves Of a Withdrawn Delight— Affords a Bliss like Murder— Omnipotent—Acute—
810 Her Grace is all she has— And that, so least displays— One Art to recognize, must be, Another Art, to praise.
13 Sleep is supposed to be By souls of sanity The shutting of the eye. Sleep is the station grand
714 Rest at Night The Sun from shining, Nature—and some Men— Rest at Noon—some Men—
877 Each Scar I’ll keep for Him Instead I’ll say of Gem In His long Absence worn A Costlier one
200 I stole them from a Bee— Because—Thee— Sweet plea— He pardoned me!
LXXXIX A WORD is dead When it is said, Some say. I say it just
XL I NEVER lost as much but twice, And that was in the sod; Twice have I stood a beggar Before the door of God!
384 No Rack can torture me— My Soul—at Liberty— Behind this mortal Bone There knits a bolder One—
It is an honorable thought, And makes one lift one’s hat, As one encountered gentlefolk Upon a daily street, That we’ve immortal place,
400 A Tongue—to tell Him I am true! Its fee—to be of Gold— Had Nature—in Her monstrous Hous… A single Ragged Child—
Tell all the truth but tell it sla… Success in circuit lies, Too bright for our infirm delight The truth’s superb surprise; As lightning to the children eased
868 They ask but our Delight— The Darlings of the Soil And grant us all their Countenanc… For a penurious smile.
60 Like her the Saints retire, In their Chapeaux of fire, Martial as she! Like her the Evenings steal
Some keep the Sabbath going to Ch… I keep it, staying at Home— With a Bobolink for a Chorister— And an Orchard, for a Dome— Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice…