#Americans #Women #XIXCentury #XXCentury
One who claims that he knows about… Tells me the earth is a vale of si… But I and the bees, and the birds… And think it a world worth living… ———
I am all tired out, said the mouth… I am all tired out with talk. Just wait, said the knee, till you… And then have to walk-walk-walk. My work, said the hand, is the har…
If I should die, how kind you all… In that strange hour I would not… There are no words too beautiful t… Of one who goes forevermore away Across that ebbing tide which has…
If I were sent to represent A portion of a nation I would not chat, on this and that… In the halls of legislation. To show my power, I’d waste no ho…
Three million women without mates In lonely homes on earth! And Cupid sighs at heaven’s gates… Where many a spirit ego waits Its call again to birth.
You do but jest, sir, and you jest… How could the hand be enemy of the… Or seed and sod be rivals! How c… Feel jealousy of heat, plant of th… Or competition dwell ’twixt lip an…
Falling upon the frozen world last… I heard the slow beat of the Wint… Poor foolish drops, down-dripping… The ice-bound Earth but mocked th… Far better had the fixedness of wh…
This is the world’s stupendous hou… The supreme moment for the race To see the emptiness of power, The worthlessness of wealth and pl… To see the purpose and the plan
It was a way of Helen’s not to si… The songs that other people sang;… Sometimes an extract from an olden… Again some floating, fragmentary t… And these she fitted to old melodi…
With care, and skill, and cunning… She parried Time’s malicious dart… And kept the years at bay, Till passion entered in her heart And aged her in a day!
Life is a privilege. Its youthful… Shine with the radiance of continu… To live, to breathe, to wonder and… To feed with dreams the heart’s pe… To thrill with virtuous passions,…
Do you remember the name I wore— The old pet-name of Little Queen… In the dear, dead days that are no… The happiest days of our lives, I… For we loved with that passionate…
Life and I are lovers, straying Arm in arm along: Often like two children Maying, Full of mirth and song, Life plucks all the blooming hours
Do you know where the summer bloom… Where there never is rain on a pic… Where the thornless rose in its be… And little boys never are called f… Then, oh! hey! it is far away–
Sometimes she seems so helpless an… So full of sweet unreason and so w… So prone to some capricious whim o… Now gay, now tearful, and now ange… By her strange moods of waywardnes…
