#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
890 From Us She wandered now a Year, Her tarrying, unknown, If Wilderness prevent her feet Or that Ethereal Zone
178 I cautious, scanned my little life… I winnowed what would fade From what would last till Heads l… Should be a-dreaming laid.
Epigram THIS is my letter to the world, That never wrote to me,— The simple news that Nature told, With tender majesty.
856 There is a finished feeling Experienced at Graves— A leisure of the Future— A Wilderness of Size.
944 I learned—at least—what Home coul… How ignorant I had been Of pretty ways of Covenant— How awkward at the Hymn
300 ‘Morning’—means 'Milking’—to the… Dawn’—to the Teneriffe’— Dice’—to the Maid’— Morning means just Risk’—to the L…
412 I read my sentence—steadily— Reviewed it with my eyes, To see that I made no mistake In its extremest clause—
261 Put up my lute! What of—my Music! Since the sole ear I cared to cha… Passive—as Granite—laps My Music…
859 A Doubt if it be Us Assists the staggering Mind In an extremer Anguish Until it footing find.
Judgment is justest When the Judged, His action laid away, Divested is of every Disk But his sincerity.
667 Bloom upon the Mountain—stated— Blameless of a Name— Efflorescence of a Sunset— Reproduced—the same—
852 Apology for Her Be rendered by the Bee— Herself, without a Parliament Apology for Me.
A door just opened on a street— I, lost, was passing by— An instant’s width of warmth discl… And wealth, and company. The door as sudden shut, and I,
772 The hallowing of Pain Like hallowing of Heaven, Obtains at a corporeal cost— The Summit is not given
XLV DELIGHT becomes pictorial When viewed through pain,— More fair, because impossible That any gain.