#Americans #Women #XIXCentury #XXCentury
A vision beauteous as the morn, With heavenly eyes and tresses str… Slow glided o’er a field late shor… Where walked a poet idly dreaming. He saw her, and joy lit his face.
That which we had we still possess… Though leaves may drop and stars m… No circumstance can make it less Or take it from us, all in all. That which is lost we did not own;
Let mine not be that saddest fate… To live beyond my greater self; to… My faculties decaying, as the tree Stands stark and helpless while it… Let me hear rather the imperious c…
The Day has never understood the… Though sired by one Creative Powe… The White Man ever fails to read… Though from the self-same Source… So deep and wide, the Great Divid…
If one poor burdened toiler o’er l… Who meets us by the way, Goes on less conscious of his gall… Then life, indeed, does pay. If we can show one troubled heart…
O Science, reaching backward thro… Most earnest child of God, Exposing all the secrets of existe… With thy divining rod, I bid thee speed up to the heights…
The longer I live and the more I… Of the struggle of souls towards t… The stronger this truth comes home… That the Universe rests on the sh… A love so limitless, deep, and bro…
The Needle and Thread one day wer… The Thimble acted as priest, A paper of Pins, and the Scissors… Were among the guests at the feast… That dandy trim the Bodkin slim
I am tired to-night, and something… The wind maybe, or the rain, Or the cry of a bird in the copse… Has brought back the past and its… And I feel as I sit here thinking…
Oh! the earth is full of sinning And of trouble and of woe, But the devil makes an inning Every time we say it’s so. And the way to set him scowling,
Though with gods the world is cumb… Gods unnamed, and gods unnumbered, Never god was known to be Who had not his devotee. So I dedicate to mine,
Into the world’s most high and hol… Men carry selfishness, and graft a… The air is rent with warring of th… Loud Dogmas drown a brother’s cry… The Fleet-of-Creeds, upon Time’s…
My soul is like a poor caged bird… Beating its wings against the pris… Longing to reach the outer world o… And, all untrammelled, soar among… Wild, mighty thoughts struggle wit…
If all the year was summer time, And all the aim of life Was just to lilt on like a rhyme, Then I would be your wife. If all the days were August days,
Oh, you who read some song that I… What know you of the soul from whe… Dost dream the poet ever speaks al… His secret thought unto the listen… Go take the murmuring sea-shell fr…