#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
Going to him! Happy letter! Tell… Tell him the page I didn’t write; Tell him I only said the syntax, And left the verb and the pronoun… Tell him just how the fingers hurr…
993 We miss Her, not because We see— The Absence of an Eye— Except its Mind accompany Abridge Society
48 Once more, my now bewildered Dove Bestirs her puzzled wings Once more her mistress, on the dee… Her troubled question flings—
123 Many cross the Rhine In this cup of mine. Sip old Frankfort air From my brown Cigar.
571 Must be a Woe— A loss or so— To bend the eye Best Beauty’s way—
330 The Juggler’s Hat her Country is… The Mountain Gorse—the Bee’s!
979 This Merit hath the worst— It cannot be again— When Fate hath taunted last And thrown Her furthest Stone—
Remorse– is Memory– awake - Her Parties all astir - A Presence of Departed Acts - At window– and at Door – Its Past - set down before the S…
XXXVII For each ecstatic instant We must an anguish pay In keen and quivering ratio To the ecstasy.
1763 Fame is a bee. It has a song— It has a sting— Ah, too, it has a wing.
694 The Heaven vests for Each In that small Deity It craved the grace to worship Some bashful Summer’s Day—
The sky is low, the clouds are mea… A travelling flake of snow Across a barn or through a rut Debates if it will go. A narrow wind complains all day
933 Two Travellers perishing in Snow The Forests as they froze Together heard them strengthening Each other with the words
I DIED for beauty, but was scarc… Adjusted in the tomb, When one who died for truth was la… In an adjoining room. He questioned softly why I failed…
Nature, the gentlest mother, Impatient of no child, The feeblest or the waywardest, Her admonition mild In forest and the hill
