#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
Not Sickness stains the Brave, Nor any Dart, Nor Doubt of Scene to come, But an adjourning Heart -
170 Portraits are to daily faces As an Evening West, To a fine, pedantic sunshine— In a satin Vest!
Publication—is the Auction Of the Mind of Man— Poverty—be justifying For so foul a thing Possibly—but We—would rather
293 I got so I could take his name— Without—Tremendous gain— That Stop-sensation—on my Soul— And Thunder—in the Room—
The cricket sang, And set the sun, And workmen finished, one by one, Their seam the day upon. The low grass loaded with the dew,
110 Artists wrestled here! Lo, a tint Cashmere! Lo, a Rose! Student of the Year!
The inundation of the Spring Enlarges every soul - It sweeps the tenement away But leaves the Water whole - In which the soul at first estrang…
773 Deprived of other Banquet, I entertained Myself— At first—a scant nutrition— An insufficient Loaf—
It is an honorable thought, And makes one lift one’s hat, As one encountered gentlefolk Upon a daily street, That we’ve immortal place,
482 We Cover Thee—Sweet Face— Not that We tire of Thee— But that Thyself fatigue of Us— Remember—as Thou go—
956 What shall I do when the Summer t… What, when the Rose is ripe— What when the Eggs fly off in Mus… From the Maple Keep?
378 I saw no Way—The Heavens were st… I felt the Columns close— The Earth reversed her Hemisphere… I touched the Universe—
1034 His Bill an Auger is, His Head, a Cap and Frill. He laboreth at every Tree A Worm, His utmost Goal.
XXIII A bird came down the walk: He did not know I saw; He bit an angle-worm in halves And ate the fellow, raw.
243 I’ve known a Heaven, like a Tent— To wrap its shining Yards— Pluck up its stakes, and disappear… Without the sound of Boards