#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
’Twas comfort in her Dying Room To hear the living Clock— A short relief to have the wind Walk boldly up and knock— Diversion from the Dying Theme
148 All overgrown by cunning moss, All interspersed with weed, The little cage of “Currer Bell” In quiet “Haworth” laid.
404 How many Flowers fail in Wood— Or perish from the Hill— Without the privilege to know That they are Beautiful—
The words the happy say Are paltry melody But those the silent feel Are beautiful—
430 It would never be Common—more—I s… Difference—had begun— Many a bitterness—had been— But that old sort—was done—
293 I got so I could take his name— Without—Tremendous gain— That Stop-sensation—on my Soul— And Thunder—in the Room—
952 A Man may make a Remark— In itself—a quiet thing That may furnish the Fuse unto a… In dormant nature—lain—
384 No Rack can torture me— My Soul—at Liberty— Behind this mortal Bone There knits a bolder One—
September’s Baccalaureate A combination is Of Crickets– Crows– and Retros… And a dissembling Breeze That hints without assuming -
121 As Watchers hang upon the East, As Beggars revel at a feast By savory Fancy spread— As brooks in deserts babble sweet
38 By such and such an offering To Mr. So and So, The web of live woven— So martyrs albums show!
A Sickness of this World it most… When Best Men die. A Wishfulness their far Condition To occupy. A Chief indifference, as Foreign
864 The Robin for the Crumb Returns no syllable But long records the Lady’s name In Silver Chronicle.
One need not be a chamber to be ha… One need not be a house; The brain has corridors surpassing Material place. Far safer, of a midnight meeting
275 Doubt Me! My Dim Companion! Why, God, would be content With but a fraction of the Life— Poured thee, without a stint—
