#AmericanWriters #FemaleWriters #XIXCentury
899 Herein a Blossom lies— A Sepulchre, between— Cross it, and overcome the Bee— Remain—'tis but a Rind.
149 She went as quiet as the Dew From an Accustomed flower. Not like the Dew, did she return At the Accustomed hour!
836 Truth—is as old as God— His Twin identity And will endure as long as He A Co-Eternity—
596 When I was small, a Woman died— Today—her Only Boy Went up from the Potomac— His face all Victory
868 They ask but our Delight— The Darlings of the Soil And grant us all their Countenanc… For a penurious smile.
676 Least Bee that brew— A Honey’s Weight Content Her smallest fraction hel… The Amber Quantity—
I SHOULD have been too glad, I… Too lifted for the scant degree Of life’s penurious round; My little circuit would have shame… This new circumference, have blame…
933 Two Travellers perishing in Snow The Forests as they froze Together heard them strengthening Each other with the words
796 Who Giants know, with lesser Men Are incomplete, and shy— For Greatness, that is ill at eas… In minor Company—
90 Within my reach! I could have touched! I might have chanced that way! Soft sauntered thro’ the village—
549 That I did always love I bring thee Proof That till I loved I never lived—Enough—
653 Of Being is a Bird The likest to the Down An Easy Breeze do put afloat The General Heavens—upon—
726 We thirst at first—’tis Nature’s… And later—when we die— A little Water supplicate— Of fingers going by—
799 Despair’s advantage is achieved By suffering—Despair— To be assisted of Reverse One must Reverse have bore—
The Mushroom is the Elf of Plant… At Evening, it is not At Morning, in a Truffled Hut It stop opon a Spot As if it tarried always
