#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
170 Portraits are to daily faces As an Evening West, To a fine, pedantic sunshine— In a satin Vest!
105 To hang our head—ostensibly— And subsequent, to find That such was not the posture Of our immortal mind—
681 Soil of Flint, if steady tilled— Will refund by Hand— Seed of Palm, by Libyan Sun Fructified in Sand—
922 Those who have been in the Grave… Those who begin Today— Equally perish from our Practise— Death is the other way—
904 Had I not This, or This, I said, Appealing to Myself, In moment of prosperity— Inadequate—were Life—
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?
I hide myself within my flower, That wearing on your breast, You, unsuspecting, wear me too - And angels know the rest. I hide myself within my flower,
Immured in Heaven! What a Cell! Let every Bondage be, Thou sweetest of the Universe, Like that which ravished thee!
635 I think the longest Hour of all Is when the Cars have come— And we are waiting for the Coach— It seems as though the Time
368 How sick—to wait—in any place—but… I knew last night—when someone tri… Thinking—perhaps—that I looked ti… Or breaking—almost—with unspoken p…
840 I cannot buy it—’tis not sold— There is no other in the World— Mine was the only one I was so happy I forgot
434 To love thee Year by Year— May less appear Than sacrifice, and cease— However, dear,
896 Of Silken Speech and Specious Sh… A Traitor is the Bee His service to the newest Grace Present continually
626 Only God—detect the Sorrow— Only God— The Jehovahs—are no Babblers— Unto God—
673 The Love a Life can show Below Is but a filament, I know, Of that diviner thing That faints upon the face of Noon…
