#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
473 I am ashamed’—I hide’— What right have I’—to be a Bride’… So late a Dowerless Girl’— Nowhere to hide my dazzled Face’—
890 From Us She wandered now a Year, Her tarrying, unknown, If Wilderness prevent her feet Or that Ethereal Zone
575 “Heaven” has different Signs—to m… Sometimes, I think that Noon Is but a symbol of the Place— And when again, at Dawn,
101 Will there really be a “Morning”? Is there such a thing as “Day”? Could I see it from the mountains If I were as tall as they?
57 To venerate the simple days Which lead the seasons by, Needs but to remember That from you or I,
954 The Chemical conviction That Nought be lost Enable in Disaster My fractured Trust—
I like to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step Around a pile of mountains,
437 Prayer is the little implement Through which Men reach Where Presence—is denied them. They fling their Speech
800 Two—were immortal twice— The privilege of few— Eternity—obtained—in Time— Reversed Divinity’—
523 Sweet—You forgot—but I remembered Every time—for Two— So that the Sum be never hindered Through Decay of You—
No matter—now—Sweet— But when I’m Earl— Won’t you wish you’d spoken To that dull Girl? Trivial a Word—just—
930 There is a June when Corn is cut And Roses in the Seed— A Summer briefer than the first But tenderer indeed
152 The Sun kept stooping—stooping—lo… The Hills to meet him rose! On his side, what Transaction! On their side, what Repose!
821 Away from Home are some and I— An Emigrant to be In a Metropolis of Homes Is easy, possibly—
407 If What we could—were what we wou… Criterion—be small— It is the Ultimate of Talk— The Impotence to Tell—
