#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
It struck me every day The lightning was as new As if the cloud that instant slit And let the fire through. It burned me in the night,
92 My friend must be a Bird’— Because it flies! Mortal, my friend must be, Because it dies!
963 A nearness to Tremendousness— An Agony procures— Affliction ranges Boundlessness— Vicinity to Laws
109 By a flower—By a letter— By a nimble love— If I weld the Rivet faster— Final fast—above—
Said Death to Passion ‘Give of thine an Acre unto me.’ Said Passion, through contracting… ‘A Thousand Times Thee Nay.’ Bore Death from Passion
934 That is solemn we have ended Be it but a Play Or a Glee among the Garret Or a Holiday
755 No Bobolink—reverse His Singing When the only Tree Ever He minded occupying By the Farmer be—
Between My Country—and the Other… There is a Sea— But Flowers—negotiate between us— As Ministry.
Witchcraft has not a Pedigree ’Tis early as our Breath And mourners meet it going out The moment of our death—
227 Teach Him – When He makes the na… Such an one – to say – On his babbling – Berry – lips – As should sound – to me –
I never hear the word 'escape’ Without a quicker blood, A sudden expectation, A flying attitude. I never hear of prisons broad
425 Good Morning—Midnight— I’m coming Home— Day—got tired of Me— How could I—of Him?
281 ’Tis so appalling—it exhilarates— So over Horror, it half Captivate… The Soul stares after it, secure— A Sepulchre, fears frost, no more…
265 Where Ships of Purple—gently toss… On Seas of Daffodil— Fantastic Sailors—mingle— And then—the Wharf is still!
483 A Solemn thing within the Soul To feel itself get ripe— And golden hang—while farther up— The Maker’s Ladders stop—
