#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
994 Partake as doth the Bee, Abstemiously. The Rose is an Estate— In Sicily.
596 When I was small, a Woman died— Today—her Only Boy Went up from the Potomac— His face all Victory
884 As Everywhere of Silver With Ropes of Sand To keep it from effacing The Track called Land.
805 This Bauble was preferred of Bees… By Butterflies admired At Heavenly—Hopeless Distances— Was justified of Bird—
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
LIX I TOOK my power in my hand And went against the world; ’T was not so much as David had, But I was twice as bold.
718 I meant to find Her when I came— Death—had the same design— But the Success—was His—it seems— And the Surrender—Mine—
584 It ceased to hurt me, though so sl… I could not feel the Anguish go— But only knew by looking back— That something—had benumbed the T…
LX The grass so little has to do,— A sphere of simple green, With only butterflies to brood, And bees to entertain,
76 Exultation is the going Of an inland soul to sea, Past the houses—past the headlands… Into deep Eternity—
My Garden—like the Beach— Denotes there be—a Sea— That’s Summer— Such as These—the Pearls She fetches—such as Me
XVIII READ, sweet, how others strove, Till we are stouter; What they renounced, Till we are less afraid;
159 A little bread—a crust—a crumb— A little trust—a demijohn— Can keep the soul alive— Not portly, mind! but breathing—wa…
I counted till they danced so Their slippers leaped the town, And then I took a pencil To note the rebels down. And then they grew so jolly
There’s a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons— That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes— Heavenly Hurt, it gives us—
