#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
660 ’Tis good—the looking back on Gri… To re-endure a Day— We thought the Mighty Funeral— Of All Conceived Joy—
463 I live with Him — I see His face… I go no more away For Visitor — or Sundown — Death's single privacy
247 What would I give to see his face… I’d give—I’d give my life—of cour… But that is not enough! Stop just a minute—let me think!
752 So the Eyes accost—and sunder In an Audience— Stamped—occasionally—forever— So may Countenance
780 The Truth—is stirless— Other force—may be presumed to mov… This—then—is best for confidence— When oldest Cedars swerve—
526 To hear an Oriole sing May be a common thing— Or only a divine. It is not of the Bird
394 ’Twas Love’—not me’— Oh punish’—pray’— The Real one died for Thee’— Just Him’—not me’—
The Hills in Purple syllables The Day’s Adventures tell To little Groups of Continents Just going Home from School.
A thought went up my mind to-day That I have had before, But did not finish,—some way back, I could not fix the year, Nor where it went, nor why it came
899 Herein a Blossom lies— A Sepulchre, between— Cross it, and overcome the Bee— Remain—'tis but a Rind.
461 A Wife—at daybreak I shall be— Sunrise—Hast thou a Flag for me? At Midnight, I am but a Maid, How short it takes to make a Brid…
Said Death to Passion ‘Give of thine an Acre unto me.’ Said Passion, through contracting… ‘A Thousand Times Thee Nay.’ Bore Death from Passion
693 Shells from the Coast mistaking— I cherished them for All— Happening in After Ages To entertain a Pearl—
Shall I take thee, the Poet said To the propounded word? Be stationed with the Candidates Till I have finer tried— The Poet searched Philology
I cannot live with You— It would be Life— And Life is over there— Behind the Shelf The Sexton keeps the Key to—
