#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
239 “Heaven”—is what I cannot reach! The Apple on the Tree— Provided it do hopeless—hang— That—"He aven" is—to Me!
The thought beneath so slight a fi… Is more distincly seen,— As laces just reveal the surge, Or mists the Apennine.
944 I learned—at least—what Home coul… How ignorant I had been Of pretty ways of Covenant— How awkward at the Hymn
380 There is a flower that Bees prefe… And Butterflies—desire— To gain the Purple Democrat The Humming Bird—aspire—
159 A little bread—a crust—a crumb— A little trust—a demijohn— Can keep the soul alive— Not portly, mind! but breathing—wa…
850 I sing to use the Waiting My Bonnet but to tie And shut the Door unto my House No more to do have I
Not “Revelation”—'tis—that waits, But our unfurnished eyes—
A drop fell on the apple tree Another on the roof; A half a dozen kissed the eaves, And made the gables laugh. A few went out to help the brook,
910 Experience is the Angled Road Preferred against the Mind By—Paradox—the Mind itself— Presuming it to lead
934 That is solemn we have ended Be it but a Play Or a Glee among the Garret Or a Holiday
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
663 Again—his voice is at the door— I feel the old Degree— I hear him ask the servant For such an one—as me—
911 Too little way the House must lie From every Human Heart That holds in undisputed Lease A white inhabitant—
770 I lived on Dread— To Those who know The Stimulus there is In Danger—Other impetus
796 Who Giants know, with lesser Men Are incomplete, and shy— For Greatness, that is ill at eas… In minor Company—
