#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
403 The Winters are so short— I’m hardly justified In sending all the Birds away— And moving into Pod—
822 This Consciousness that is aware Of Neighbors and the Sun Will be the one aware of Death And that itself alone
I bet with every Wind that blew Till Nature in chagrin Employed a Fact to visit me And scuttle my Balloon -
Too cold is this To warm with Sun - Too stiff to bended be, To joint this Agate were a work - Outstaring Masonry -
10 My wheel is in the dark! I cannot see a spoke Yet know its dripping feet Go round and round.
114 Good night, because we must, How intricate the dust! I would go, to know! Oh incognito!
434 To love thee Year by Year— May less appear Than sacrifice, and cease— However, dear,
902 The first Day that I was a Life I recollect it—How still— That last Day that I was a Life I recollect it—as well—
A long, long sleep, a famous sleep That makes no show for dawn By strech of limb or stir of lid,— An independent one. Was ever idleness like this?
989 Gratitude—is not the mention Of a Tenderness, But its still appreciation Out of Plumb of Speech.
After a hundred years Nobody knows the place,— Agony, that enacted there, Motionless as peace. Weeds triumphant ranged,
426 It don't sound so terrible—quite—a… I run it over—"Dead", Brain, "De… Put it in Latin—left of my school… Seems it don't shriek so—under rul…
Part One: Life LII VICTORY comes late, And is held low to freezing lips Too rapt with frost
705 Suspense—is Hostiler than Death— Death—tho’soever Broad, Is just Death, and cannot increas… Suspense—does not conclude –
235 The Court is far away— No Umpire—have I— My Sovereign is offended— To gain his grace—I’d die!
