#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
That only lasts an hour How much '— how little '— is Within our power
If you were coming in the fall, I’d brush the summer by With half a smile and half a spum, As housewives do a fly. If I could see you in a year,
You said that I “was Great”'—one… Then “Great” it be’—if that pleas… Or Small’—or any size at all’— Nay’—I’m the size suit Thee’— Tall’—like the Stag’—would that?
622 To know just how He suffered—woul… To know if any Human eyes were ne… To whom He could entrust His wave… Until it settle broad—on Paradise…
912 Peace is a fiction of our Faith— The Bells a Winter Night Bearing the Neighbor out of Sound That never did alight.
38 By such and such an offering To Mr. So and So, The web of live woven— So martyrs albums show!
656 The name—of it—is “Autumn”— The hue—of it—is Blood— An Artery—upon the Hill— A Vein—along the Road—
135 Water, is taught by thirst. Land—by the Oceans passed. Transport—by throe— Peace—by its battles told—
635 I think the longest Hour of all Is when the Cars have come— And we are waiting for the Coach— It seems as though the Time
Let me not mar that perfect Dream By an Auroral stain But so adjust my daily Night That it will come again. Not when we know, the Power accos…
527 To put this World down, like a Bu… And walk steady, away, Requires Energy—possibly Agony— ’Tis the Scarlet way
787 Such is the Force of Happiness— The Least—can lift a Ton Assisted by its stimulus— Who Misery—sustain—
698 Life—is what we make of it— Death—we do not know— Christ’s acquaintance with Him Justify Him—though—
614 In falling Timbers buried— There breathed a Man— Outside—the spades—were plying— The Lungs—within—
544 The Martyr Poets—did not tell— But wrought their Pang in syllabl… That when their mortal name be num… Their mortal fate—encourage Some—
