#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
993 We miss Her, not because We see— The Absence of an Eye— Except its Mind accompany Abridge Society
949 Under the Light, yet under, Under the Grass and the Dirt, Under the Beetle’s Cellar Under the Clover’s Root,
16 I would distil a cup, And bear to all my friends, Drinking to her no more astir, By beck, or burn, or moor!
501 This World is not Conclusion. A Species stands beyond— Invisible, as Music— But positive, as Sound—
Success is counted sweetest By those who ne’er succeed. To comprehend a nectar Requires sorest need. Not one of all the purple Host
682 ‘Twould ease—a Butterfly— Elate—a Bee— Thou’rt neither— Neither—thy capacity—
312 Her—“last Poems”— Poets—ended— Silver—perished—with her Tongue— Not on Record—bubbled other,
44 If she had been the Mistletoe And I had been the Rose— How gay upon your table My velvet life to close—
XXIX THE nearest dream recedes, unreal… The heaven we chase Like the June bee Before the school—boy
970 Color — Caste — Denomination — These — are Time's Affair — Death's diviner Classifying Does not know they are —
226 Should you but fail at—Sea— In sight of me— Or doomed lie— Next Sun—to die—
164 Mama never forgets her birds, Though in another tree— She looks down just as often And just as tenderly
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…
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
XII I CANNOT live with you, It would be life, And life is over there Behind the shelf