#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
13 Sleep is supposed to be By souls of sanity The shutting of the eye. Sleep is the station grand
The Mushroom is the Elf of Plant… At Evening, it is not At Morning, in a Truffled Hut It stop opon a Spot As if it tarried always
94 Angels, in the early morning May be seen the Dews among, Stooping—plucking—smiling&m da… Do the Buds to them belong?
895 A Cloud withdrew from the Sky Superior Glory be But that Cloud and its Auxiliarie… Are forever lost to me
57 To venerate the simple days Which lead the seasons by, Needs but to remember That from you or I,
792 Through the strait pass of sufferi… The Martyrs—even—trod. Their feet—upon Temptations— Their faces—upon God—
150 She died—this was the way she died… And when her breath was done Took up her simple wardrobe And started for the sun—
A Coffin—is a small Domain, Yet able to contain A Citizen of Paradise In it diminished Plane. A Grave—is a restricted Breadth—
377 To lose one’s faith—surpass The loss of an Estate— Because Estates can be Replenished—faith cannot—
589 The Night was wide, and furnished… With but a single Star— That often as a Cloud it met— Blew out itself—for fear—
I taste a liquor never brewed, From tankards scooped in pearl; Not all the vats upon the Rhine Yield such an alcohol! Inebriate of air am I,
XXXVIII THROUGH the straight pass of su… The martyrs even trod, Their feet upon temptation, Their faces upon God.
345 Funny—to be a Century— And see the People—going by— I—should die of the Oddity— But then—I’m not so staid—as He—
Two butterflies went out at noon And waltzed above a stream, Then stepped straight through the… And rested on a beam; And then together bore away
I never saw a moor, I never saw the sea; Yet now I know how the heather lo… And what a wave must be. I never spoke with God,
