#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
662 Embarrassment of one another And God Is Revelation’s limit, Aloud
XXX WE play at paste, Till qualified for pearl, Then drop the paste, And deem ourself a fool.
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,
702 A first Mute Coming— In the Stranger’s House— A first fair Going— When the Bells rejoice—
267 Did we disobey Him? Just one time! Charged us to forget Him— But we couldn’t learn!
I never hear the word 'escape’ Without a quicker blood, A sudden expectation, A flying attitude. I never hear of prisons broad
99 New feet within my garden go— New fingers stir the sod— A Troubadour upon the Elm Betrays the solitude.
Between My Country—and the Other… There is a Sea— But Flowers—negotiate between us— As Ministry.
There is another sky, Ever serene and fair, And there is another sunshine, Though it be darkness there; Never mind faded forests, Austin,
No rack can torture me, My soul’s at liberty Behind this mortal bone There knits a bolder one You cannot prick with saw,
63 If pain for peace prepares Lo, what “Augustan” years Our feet await! If springs from winter rise,
391 A Visitor in Marl— Who influences Flowers— Till they are orderly as Busts— And Elegant—as Glass—
397 When Diamonds are a Legend, And Diadems—a Tale— I Brooch and Earrings for Myself… Do sow, and Raise for sale—
189 It’s such a little thing to weep— So short a thing to sigh— And yet—by Trades—the size of the… We men and women die!
XXII I had no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, And life was not so ample I Could finish enmity.
