#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
616 I rose—because He sank— I thought it would be opposite— But when his power dropped— My Soul grew straight.
‘Faith’ is a fine invention When Gentlemen can see’— But Microscopes are prudent In an Emergency.
199 I’m “wife”—I’ve finished that— That other state— I’m Czar—I’m “Woman” now— It’s safer so—
I never saw a moor; I never saw the sea, Yet know I how the heather looks And what a billow be. I never spoke with God,
947 Of Tolling Bell I ask the cause? “A Soul has gone to Heaven” I’m answered in a lonesome tone— Is Heaven then a Prison?
513 Like Flowers, that heard the news… But never deemed the dripping priz… Awaited their—low Brows— Or Bees—that thought the Summer’s…
The Devil—had he fidelity Would be the best friend— Because he has ability— But Devils cannot mend— Perfidy is the virtue
934 That is solemn we have ended Be it but a Play Or a Glee among the Garret Or a Holiday
Going to him! Happy letter! Tell… Tell him the page I didn’t write; Tell him I only said the syntax, And left the verb and the pronoun… Tell him just how the fingers hurr…
369 She lay as if at play Her life had leaped away— Intending to return— But not so soon—
990 Not all die early, dying young— Maturity of Fate Is consummated equally In Ages, or a Night—
296 One Year ago—jots what? God—spell the word! I—can’t— Was’t Grace? Not that— Was’t Glory? That—will do—
Could mortal lip divine The undeveloped Freight Of a delivered syllable ‘Twould crumble with the weight.
788 Joy to have merited the Pain— To merit the Release— Joy to have perished every step— To Compass Paradise—
She could not live upon the Past The Present did not know her And so she sought this sweet at la… And nature gently owned her The mother that has not a knell