#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
173 A fuzzy fellow, without feet, Yet doth exceeding run! Of velvet, is his Countenance, And his Complexion, dun!
542 I had no Cause to be awake— My Best—was gone to sleep— And Morn a new politeness took— And failed to wake them up—
54 If I should die, And you should live— And time should gurgle on— And morn should beam—
Glory is that bright tragic thing That for an instant Means Dominion - Warms some poor name That never felt the Sun,
29 If those I loved were lost The Crier’s voice would tell me— If those I loved were found The bells of Ghent would ring—
704 672 No matter—now—Sweet— But when I’m Earl— Won’t you wish you’d spoken
94 Angels, in the early morning May be seen the Dews among, Stooping—plucking—smiling&m da… Do the Buds to them belong?
859 A Doubt if it be Us Assists the staggering Mind In an extremer Anguish Until it footing find.
930 There is a June when Corn is cut And Roses in the Seed— A Summer briefer than the first But tenderer indeed
295 Unto like Story—Trouble has entic… How Kinsmen fell— Brothers and Sister—who preferred… And their young will
19 A sepal, petal, and a thorn Upon a common summer’s morn— A flask of Dew—A Bee or two— A Breeze—a caper in the trees—
820 All Circumstances are the Frame In which His Face is set— All Latitudes exist for His Sufficient Continent—
114 Good night, because we must, How intricate the dust! I would go, to know! Oh incognito!
348 I dreaded that first Robin, so, But He is mastered, now, I’m accustomed to Him grown, He hurts a little, though—
844 Spring is the Period Express from God. Among the other seasons Himself abide,
