#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
XVIII READ, sweet, how others strove, Till we are stouter; What they renounced, Till we are less afraid;
XXXIII DARE you see a soul at the white… Then crouch within the door. Red is the fire’s common tint; But when the vivid ore
607 Of nearness to her sundered Thing… The Soul has special times— When Dimness—looks the Oddity— Distinctness—easy—se ems—
501 This World is not Conclusion. A Species stands beyond— Invisible, as Music— But positive, as Sound—
To make a prairie it takes a clove… One clover, and a bee. And revery. The revery alone will do, If bees are few.
927 Absent Place—an April Day— Daffodils a-blow Homesick curiosity To the Souls that snow—
Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself,
385 Smiling back from Coronation May be Luxury— On the Heads that started with us… Being’s Peasantry—
XXIII A bird came down the walk: He did not know I saw; He bit an angle-worm in halves And ate the fellow, raw.
425 Good Morning—Midnight— I’m coming Home— Day—got tired of Me— How could I—of Him?
28 So has a Daisy vanished From the fields today— So tiptoed many a slipper To Paradise away—
I found the phrase to every though… I ever had, but one; And that defies me,—as a hand Did try to chalk the sun To races nurtured in the dark;—
907 Till Death’—is narrow Loving’— The scantest Heart extant Will hold you till your privilege Of Finiteness’—be spent’—
997 Crumbling is not an instant’s Act A fundamental pause Dilapidation’s processes Are organized Decays.
37 Before the ice is in the pools— Before the skaters go, Or any check at nightfall Is tarnished by the snow—
