#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
Her final summer was it, And yet we guessed it not; If tenderer industriousness Pervaded her, we thought A further force of life
267 Did we disobey Him? Just one time! Charged us to forget Him— But we couldn’t learn!
334 All the letters I can write Are not fair as this— Syllables of Velvet— Sentences of Plush,
981 As Sleigh Bells seem in summer Or Bees, at Christmas show— So fairy—so fictitious The individuals do
349 I had the Glory—that will do— An Honor, Thought can turn her to When lesser Fames invite— With one long “Nay”—
These Fevered Days—to take them t… Where Waters cool around the moss… And shade is all that devastates t… Seems it sometimes this would be a…
442 God made a little Gentian— It tried—to be a Rose— And failed—and all the Summer lau… But just before the Snows
109 By a flower—By a letter— By a nimble love— If I weld the Rivet faster— Final fast—above—
God permit industrious angels Afternoons to play. I met one,—forgot my school-mates, All, for him, straightaway. God calls home the angels promptly
XXVIII I BRING an unaccustomed wine To lips long parching, next to min… And summon them to drink. Crackling with fever, they essay;
821 Away from Home are some and I— An Emigrant to be In a Metropolis of Homes Is easy, possibly—
On this wondrous sea Sailing silently, Ho! Pilot, ho! Knowest thou the shore Where no breakers roar—
358 If any sink, assure that this, now… Failed like Themselves—and consci… Grew by the Fact, and not the Und… How Weakness passed—or Force—aros…
386 Answer July— Where is the Bee— Where is the Blush— Where is the Hay?
864 The Robin for the Crumb Returns no syllable But long records the Lady’s name In Silver Chronicle.
