#Americans #Women
When I was young and bold and str… Oh, right was right, and wrong was… My plume on high, my flag unfurled… I rode away to right the world. “Come out, you dogs, and fight!” s…
If I had a shiny gun, I could have a world of fun Speeding bullets through the brain… Of the folk who give me pains; Or had I some poison gas,
Lady, lady, never start Conversation toward your heart; Keep your pretty words serene; Never murmur what you mean. Show yourself, by word and look,
Some men, some men Cannot pass a Book shop. (Lady, make your mind up, and wait… Some men, some men
When I am old, and comforted, And done with this desire, With Memory to share my bed And Peace to share my fire, I’ll comb my hair in scalloped ban…
Were you to cross the world, my de… To work or love or fight, I could be calm and wistful here, And close my eyes at night. It were a sweet and gallant pain
Oh, when I flung my heart away, The year was at its fall. I saw my dear, the other day, Beside a flowering wall; And this was all I had to say:
Death’s the lover that I’d be tak… Wild and fickle and fierce is he. Small’s his care if my heart be br… Gay young Death would have none o… Hear them clack of my haste to gre…
The pure and worthy Mrs. Stowe Is one we all are proud to know As mother, wife, and authoress– Thank God, I am content with less…
I do not like my state of mind; I’m bitter, querulous, unkind. I hate my legs, I hate my hands, I do not yearn for lovelier lands. I dread the dawn’s recurrent light…
My heart went fluttering with fear Lest you should go, and leave me h… To beat my breast and rock my head And stretch me sleepless on my bed… Ah, clear they see and true they s…
I never see that prettiest thing– A cherry bough gone white with Sp… But what I think, “How gay 'twoul… To hang me from a flowering tree.”
“It’s queer,” she said; “I see th… As plain as I beheld it then, All silver—like and calm and brigh… We’ve not had stars like that agai… ”And she was such a gentle thing
My answers are inadequate To those demanding day and date And ever set a tiny shock Through strangers asking what’s o’… Whose days are spent in whittling…
Should they whisper false of you. Never trouble to deny; Should the words they say be true, Weep and storm and swear they lie.
