#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
979 This Merit hath the worst— It cannot be again— When Fate hath taunted last And thrown Her furthest Stone—
722 Sweet Mountains—Ye tell me no lie… Never deny Me—Never fly— Those same unvarying Eyes Turn on Me—when I fail—or feign,
Ended, ere it begun - The Title was scarcely told When the Preface perished from Co… The Story, unrevealed - Had it been mine, to print!
353 A happy lip—breaks sudden— It doesn’t state you how It contemplated—smiling— Just consummated—now—
918 Only a Shrine, but Mine— I made the Taper shine— Madonna dim, to whom all Feet may… Regard a Nun—
124 In lands I never saw—they say Immortal Alps look down— Whose Bonnets touch the firmament… Whose Sandals touch the town—
The sky is low, the clouds are mea… A travelling flake of snow Across a barn or through a rut Debates if it will go. A narrow wind complains all day
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,
433 Knows how to forget! But could It teach it? Easiest of Arts, they say When one learn how
387 The sweetest Heresy received That Man and Woman know— Each Other’s Convert— Though the Faith accommodate but…
A shady friend for torrid days Is easier to find Than one of higher temperature For frigid hour of mind. The vane a little to the east
442 God made a little Gentian— It tried—to be a Rose— And failed—and all the Summer lau… But just before the Snows
644 You left me—Sire—two Legacies— A Legacy of Love A Heavenly Father would suffice Had He the offer of—
I never saw a moor; I never saw the sea, Yet know I how the heather looks And what a billow be. I never spoke with God,
A narrow fellow in the grass Occasionally rides; You may have met him,—did you not, His notice sudden is. The grass divides as with a comb,
