#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
140 An altered look about the hills— A Tyrian light the village fills— A wider sunrise in the morn— A deeper twilight on the lawn—
For each ecstatic instant We must an anguish pay In keen and quivering ratio To the ectasty. For each beloved hour
302 Like Some Old fashioned Miracle When Summertime is done— Seems Summer’s Recollection And the Affairs of June
345 Funny—to be a Century— And see the People—going by— I—should die of the Oddity— But then—I’m not so staid—as He—
’Twas Crisis—All the length had p… That dull—benumbing time There is in Fever or Event— And now the Chance had come— The instant holding in its claw
101 Will there really be a “Morning”? Is there such a thing as “Day”? Could I see it from the mountains If I were as tall as they?
50 I haven’t told my garden yet— Lest that should conquer me. I haven’t quite the strength now To break it to the Bee—
49 I never lost as much but twice, And that was in the sod. Twice have I stood a beggar Before the door of God!
699 The Judge is like the Owl— I’ve heard my Father tell— And Owls do build in Oaks— So here’s an Amber Sill—
LXVI WHEN I hoped I feared, Since I hoped I dared; Everywhere alone As a church remain;
550 I cross till I am weary A Mountain—in my mind— More Mountains—then a Sea— More Seas—And then
425 Good Morning—Midnight— I’m coming Home— Day—got tired of Me— How could I—of Him?
322 There came a Day at Summer’s full… Entirely for me— I thought that such were for the… Where Resurrections—be—
I had been hungry all the years– My noon had come, to dine– I, trembling, drew the table near And touched the curious wine. ‘T was this on tables I had seen
A lane of Yellow led the eye Unto a Purple Wood Whose soft inhabitants to be Surpasses solitude If Bird the silence contradict
