#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
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,
9 Through lane it lay—through brambl… Through clearing and through wood— Banditti often passed us Upon the lonely road.
547 I’ve seen a Dying Eye Run round and round a Room— In search of Something—as it seem… Then Cloudier become—
485 To make One’s Toilette—after Dea… Has made the Toilette cool Of only Taste we cared to please Is difficult, and still—
Witchcraft has not a Pedigree ’Tis early as our Breath And mourners meet it going out The moment of our death—
898 How happy I was if I could forget To remember how sad I am Would be an easy adversity But the recollecting of Bloom
242 When we stand on the tops of Thin… And like the Trees, look down— The smoke all cleared away from it… And Mirrors on the scene—
989 Gratitude—is not the mention Of a Tenderness, But its still appreciation Out of Plumb of Speech.
No brigadier throughout the year So civic as the jay. A neighbor and a warrior too, With shrill felicity Pursuing winds that censure us
173 A fuzzy fellow, without feet, Yet doth exceeding run! Of velvet, is his Countenance, And his Complexion, dun!
God permit industrious angels Afternoons to play. I met one,—forgot my school-mates, All, for him, straightaway. God calls home the angels promptly
221 It can’t be “Summer”! That—got through! It’s early—yet—for “Spring”! There’s that long town of White—t…
A drop fell on the apple tree, Another on the roof; A half a dozen kissed the eaves, And made the gables laugh. A few went out to help the brook,
570 I could die—to know— ’Tis a trifling knowledge— News-Boys salute the Door— Carts—joggle by—
631 Ourselves were wed one summer—dear… Your Vision—was in June— And when Your little Lifetime fai… I wearied—too—of mine—
