#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
770 I lived on Dread— To Those who know The Stimulus there is In Danger—Other impetus
LXXIX I YEARS had been from home, And now, before the door, I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before
209 With thee, in the Desert— With thee in the thirst— With thee in the Tamarind wood— Leopard breathes—at last!
778 This that would greet—an hour ago— Is quaintest Distance—now— Had it a Guest from Paradise— Nor glow, would it, nor bow—
Going to him! Happy letter! Tell… Tell him the page I didn’t write; Tell him I only said the syntax, And left the verb and the pronoun… Tell him just how the fingers hurr…
If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can ever warm me, I know that is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry....
161 A feather from the Whippoorwill That everlasting—sings! Whose galleries—are Sunrise— Whose Opera—the Springs—
135 Water, is taught by thirst. Land—by the Oceans passed. Transport—by throe— Peace—by its battles told—
Sometimes with the Heart Seldom with the Soul Scarcer once with the Might Few - love at all.
863 That Distance was between Us That is not of Mile or Main— The Will it is that situates— Equator—never can—
755 No Bobolink—reverse His Singing When the only Tree Ever He minded occupying By the Farmer be—
MINE enemy is growing old, I have at last revenge. The palate of the hate departs; If any would avenge, Let him be quick, the viand flits,
474 They put Us far apart— As separate as Sea And Her unsown Peninsula— We signified “These see”—
725 Where Thou art—that—is Home— Cashmere—or Calvary—the same— Degree—or Shame— I scarce esteem Location’s Name—
443 I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl— Life’s little duties do—precisely— As the very least Were infinite—to me—
