#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
428 Taking up the fair Ideal, Just to cast her down When a fracture—we discover— Or a splintered Crown—
921 If it had no pencil Would it try mine— Worn—now—and dull—sweet, Writing much to thee.
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—
307 The One who could repeat the Summ… Were greater than itself—though H… Minutest of Mankind should be— And He—could reproduce the Sun—
XLVIII THOUGH I get home how late, how… So I get home, ’t will compensate… Better will be the ecstasy That they have done expecting me,
493 The World—stands—solemner—to me— Since I was wed—to Him— A modesty befits the soul That bears another’s—name—
Could mortal lip divine The undeveloped Freight Of a delivered syllable ‘Twould crumble with the weight.
110 Artists wrestled here! Lo, a tint Cashmere! Lo, a Rose! Student of the Year!
193 I shall know why—when Time is ove… And I have ceased to wonder why— Christ will explain each separate… In the fair schoolroom of the sky—
1035 Bee! I’m expecting you! Was saying Yesterday To Somebody you know That you were due—
741 Drama’s Vitallest Expression is t… That arise and set about Us— Other Tragedy Perish in the Recitation—
I years had been from home, And now, before the door, I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before Stare vacant into mine
The nearest dream recedes, unreali… The heaven we chase Like the June bee Before the school-boy Invites the race;
His Heart was darker than the sta… For that there is a morn But in this black Receptacle Can be no Bode of Dawn
785 They have a little Odor—that to m… Is metre—nay—’tis melody— And spiciest at fading—indicate— A Habit—of a Laureate—
