#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
402 I pay—in Satin Cash— You did not state—your price— A Petal, for a Paragraph It near as I can guess—
763 He told a homely tale And spotted it with tears— Upon his infant face was set The Cicatrice of years—
310 Give little Anguish— Lives will fret— Give Avalanches— And they’ll slant—
388 Take your Heaven further on— This—to Heaven divine Has gone— Had You earlier blundered in Possibly, e’en You had seen
51 I often passed the village When going home from school— And wondered what they did there— And why it was so still—
91 So bashful when I spied her! So pretty—so ashamed! So hidden in her leaflets Lest anybody find—
821 Away from Home are some and I— An Emigrant to be In a Metropolis of Homes Is easy, possibly—
XII I CANNOT live with you, It would be life, And life is over there Behind the shelf
164 Mama never forgets her birds, Though in another tree— She looks down just as often And just as tenderly
599 There is a pain—so utter— It swallows substance up— Then covers the Abyss with Trance… So Memory can step
551 There is a Shame of Nobleness— Confronting Sudden Pelf— A finer Shame of Ecstasy— Convicted of Itself—
674 The Soul that hath a Guest Doth seldom go abroad— Diviner Crowd at Home— Obliterate the need—
498 I envy Seas, whereon He rides— I envy Spokes of Wheels Of Chariots, that Him convey— I envy Crooked Hills
616 I rose—because He sank— I thought it would be opposite— But when his power dropped— My Soul grew straight.
886 These tested Our Horizon— Then disappeared As Birds before achieving A Latitude.
