#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
788 Joy to have merited the Pain— To merit the Release— Joy to have perished every step— To Compass Paradise—
XVIII READ, sweet, how others strove, Till we are stouter; What they renounced, Till we are less afraid;
6 Frequently the wood are pink— Frequently are brown. Frequently the hills undress Behind my native town.
128 Bring me the sunset in a cup, Reckon the morning’s flagons up And say how many Dew, Tell me how far the morning leaps—
408 Unit, like Death, for Whom? True, like the Tomb, Who tells no secret Told to Him—
566 A Dying Tiger—moaned for Drink— I hunted all the Sand— I caught the Dripping of a Rock And bore it in my Hand—
191 The Skies can’t keep their secret… They tell it to the Hills— The Hills just tell the Orchards— And they—the Daffodils!
332 There are two Ripenings—one—of si… Whose forces Spheric wind Until the Velvet product Drop spicy to the ground—
Volcanoes be in Sicily And South America I judge from my Geography - Volcanos nearer here A Lava step at any time
I saw the wind within her I knew it blew for me '— But she must buy my shelter I asked Humility
CXI A DOOR just opened on a street— I, lost, was passing by— An instant’s width of warmth discl… And wealth, and company.
154 Except to Heaven, she is nought. Except for Angels—lone. Except to some wide-wandering Bee A flower superfluous blown.
322 There came a Day at Summer’s full… Entirely for me— I thought that such were for the… Where Resurrections—be—
LXII A DROP fell on the apple tree Another on the roof; A half a dozen kissed the eaves, And made the gables laugh.
130 These are the days when Birds com… A very few—a Bird or two— To take a backward look. These are the days when skies resu…
