#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
353 A happy lip—breaks sudden— It doesn’t state you how It contemplated—smiling— Just consummated—now—
682 ‘Twould ease—a Butterfly— Elate—a Bee— Thou’rt neither— Neither—thy capacity—
’Twas comfort in her Dying Room To hear the living Clock— A short relief to have the wind Walk boldly up and knock— Diversion from the Dying Theme
818 I could not drink it, Sweet, Till You had tasted first, Though cooler than the Water was The Thoughtfullness of Thirst.
540 I took my Power in my Hand— And went against the World— ’Twas not so much as David—had— But I—was twice as bold—
When Memory is full Put on the perfect Lid - This Morning’s finest syllable Presumptuous Evening said -
IX THE heart asks pleasure first, And then, excuse from pain; And then, those little anodynes That deaden suffering;
844 Spring is the Period Express from God. Among the other seasons Himself abide,
369 She lay as if at play Her life had leaped away— Intending to return— But not so soon—
XLIX WE outgrow love like other things And put it in the drawer, Till it an antique fashion shows Like costumes grandsires wore.
I watched the Moon around the Hou… Until upon a Pane— She stopped—a Traveller’s privile… And there upon I gazed—as at a stranger—
852 Apology for Her Be rendered by the Bee— Herself, without a Parliament Apology for Me.
The wind begun to rock the grass With threatening tunes and low,— He flung a menace at the earth, A menace at the sky. The leaves unhooked themselves fro…
They shut me up in Prose— As when a little Girl They put me in the Closet— Because they liked me “still”— Still! Could themself have peeped…
No rack can torture me, My soul’s at liberty Behind this mortal bone There knits a bolder one You cannot prick with saw,
