#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
481 The Himmaleh was known to stoop Unto the Daisy low— Transported with Compassion That such a Doll should grow
890 From Us She wandered now a Year, Her tarrying, unknown, If Wilderness prevent her feet Or that Ethereal Zone
194 On this long storm the Rainbow ro… On this late Morn—the Sun— The clouds—like listless Elephant… Horizons—straggled down—
I felt a cleaving in my mind As if my brain had split; I tried to match it, seam by seam, But could not make them fit. The thought behind I strove to jo…
9 Through lane it lay—through brambl… Through clearing and through wood— Banditti often passed us Upon the lonely road.
Not in this world to see his face Sounds long, until I read the pla… Where this is said to be But just the primer to a life Unopened, rare, upon the shelf,
I hide myself within my flower, That wearing on your breast, You, unsuspecting, wear me too - And angels know the rest. I hide myself within my flower,
608 Afraid! Of whom am I afraid? Not Death—for who is He? The Porter of my Father’s Lodge As much abasheth me!
Not Sickness stains the Brave, Nor any Dart, Nor Doubt of Scene to come, But an adjourning Heart -
I counted till they danced so Their slippers leaped the town, And then I took a pencil To note the rebels down. And then they grew so jolly
331 While Asters— On the Hill— Their Everlasting fashions—set— And Covenant Gentians—Frill!
’Twas such a little—little boat That toddled down the bay! ’Twas such a gallant—gallant sea That beckoned it away! ’Twas such a greedy, greedy wave
To die—takes just a little while— They say it doesn't hurt— It's only fainter—by degrees— And then—it's out of sight— A darker Ribbon—for a Day—
6 Frequently the wood are pink— Frequently are brown. Frequently the hills undress Behind my native town.
547 I’ve seen a Dying Eye Run round and round a Room— In search of Something—as it seem… Then Cloudier become—
