#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
917 Love—is anterior to Life— Posterior—to Death— Initial of Creation, and The Exponent of Earth—
974 The Soul’s distinct connection With immortality Is best disclosed by Danger Or quick Calamity—
40 When I count the seeds That are sown beneath, To bloom so, bye and bye— When I con the people
390 It’s coming—the postponeless Crea… It gains the Block—and now—it gai… Chooses its latch, from all the ot… Enters—with a “You know Me—Sir”?
A Cloud withdrew from the Sky Superior Glory be But that Cloud and its Auxiliarie… Are forever lost to me Had I but further scanned
717 The Beggar Lad—dies early— It’s Somewhat in the Cold— And Somewhat in the Trudging feet… And haply, in the World—
82 Whose cheek is this? What rosy face Has lost a blush today? I found her—"pleiad"—in the woods
252 I can wade Grief— Whole Pools of it— I’m used to that— But the least push of Joy
I never hear the word 'escape’ Without a quicker blood, A sudden expectation, A flying attitude. I never hear of prisons broad
154 Except to Heaven, she is nought. Except for Angels—lone. Except to some wide-wandering Bee A flower superfluous blown.
I see thee better—in the Dark— I do not need a Light— The Love of Thee—a Prism be— Excelling Violet— I see thee better for the Years
720 No Prisoner be— Where Liberty— Himself—abide with Thee—
I breathed enough to learn the tri… And now, removed from air, I simulate the breath so well, That one, to be quite sure The lungs are stirless, must desce…
907 Till Death’—is narrow Loving’— The scantest Heart extant Will hold you till your privilege Of Finiteness’—be spent’—
LXXXVI A LADY red upon the hill Her annual secret keeps; A lady white within the field In placid lily sleeps!
