#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
417 Is it dead—Find it— Out of sound—Out of sight— “Happy”? Which is wiser— You, or the Wind?
VIII A wounded deer leaps highest, I ’ve heard the hunter tell; ’T is but the ecstasy of death, And then the brake is still.
Me! Come! My dazzled face In such a shining place! Me! Hear! My foreign ear The sounds of welcome near! The saints shall meet
952 A Man may make a Remark— In itself—a quiet thing That may furnish the Fuse unto a… In dormant nature—lain—
238 Kill your Balm—and its Odors bles… Bare your Jessamine—to the storm— And she will fling her maddest per… Haply—your Summer night to Charm—
427 I’ll clutch—and clutch— Next—One—Might be the golden touc… Could take it— Diamonds—Wait—
213 Did the Harebell loose her girdle To the lover Bee Would the Bee the Harebell hallow Much as formerly?
The Hills in Purple syllables The Day’s Adventures tell To little Groups of Continents Just going Home from School.
Lives he in any other world My faith cannot reply Before it was imperative ’Twas all distinct to me -
127 “Houses”—so the Wise Men tell me— “Mansions”! Mansions must be warm… Mansions cannot let the tears in, Mansions must exclude the storm!
228 Blazing in Gold and quenching in… Leaping like Leopards to the Sky Then at the feet of the old Horiz… Laying her spotted Face to die
The Face we choose to miss - Be it but for a Day As absent as a Hundred Years, When it has rode away.
223 I Came to buy a smile—today— But just a single smile— The smallest one upon your face Will suit me just as well—
502 At least—to pray—is left—is left— Oh Jesus—in the Air— I know not which thy chamber is— I’m knocking—everywhere—
208 The Rose did caper on her cheek— Her Bodice rose and fell— Her pretty speech—like drunken men… Did stagger pitiful—
