#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
677 To be alive—is Power— Existence—in itself— Without a further function— Omnipotence—Enough—
Nature, the gentlest mother, Impatient of no child, The feeblest or the waywardest, Her admonition mild In forest and the hill
The day came slow, till five o’clo… Then sprang before the hills, Like hindered rubies, or the light… A sudden musket spills. The purple could not keep the east…
126 To fight aloud, is very brave— But gallanter, I know Who charge within the bosom The Cavalry of Woe—
294 The Doomed—regard the Sunrise With different Delight— Because—when next it burns abroad They doubt to witness it—
A toad can die of light! Death is the common right Of toads and men,— Of earl and midge The privilege.
513 Like Flowers, that heard the news… But never deemed the dripping priz… Awaited their—low Brows— Or Bees—that thought the Summer’s…
I felt a Funeral, in my Brain, And Mourners to and fro Kept treading—treading—till it see… That Sense was breaking through— And when they all were seated,
I had no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, And life was not so ample I Could finish enmity. Nor had I time to love, but since
I went to heaven,— ‘T was a small town, Lit with a ruby, Lathed with down. Stiller than the fields
301 I reason, Earth is short— And Anguish—absolute— And many hurt, But, what of that?
947 Of Tolling Bell I ask the cause? “A Soul has gone to Heaven” I’m answered in a lonesome tone— Is Heaven then a Prison?
28 So has a Daisy vanished From the fields today— So tiptoed many a slipper To Paradise away—
176 I’m the little “Heart’s Ease”! I don’t care for pouting skies! If the Butterfly delay Can I, therefore, stay away?
562 Conjecturing a Climate Of unsuspended Suns— Adds poignancy to Winter— The Shivering Fancy turns
