#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
171 Wait till the Majesty of Death Invests so mean a brow! Almost a powdered Footman Might dare to touch it now!
772 The hallowing of Pain Like hallowing of Heaven, Obtains at a corporeal cost— The Summit is not given
912 Peace is a fiction of our Faith— The Bells a Winter Night Bearing the Neighbor out of Sound That never did alight.
163 Tho’ my destiny be Fustian— Hers be damask fine— Tho’ she wear a silver apron— I, a less divine—
XIX PAIN has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not.
91 So bashful when I spied her! So pretty—so ashamed! So hidden in her leaflets Lest anybody find—
Silence is all we dread. There’s Ransom in a Voice - But Silence is Infinity. Himself have not a face.
911 Too little way the House must lie From every Human Heart That holds in undisputed Lease A white inhabitant—
348 I dreaded that first Robin, so, But He is mastered, now, I’m accustomed to Him grown, He hurts a little, though—
721 Behind Me’—dips Eternity’— Before Me’—Immortality’— Myself’—the Term between’— Death but the Drift of Eastern G…
159 A little bread—a crust—a crumb— A little trust—a demijohn— Can keep the soul alive— Not portly, mind! but breathing—wa…
These Fevered Days—to take them t… Where Waters cool around the moss… And shade is all that devastates t… Seems it sometimes this would be a…
575 “Heaven” has different Signs—to m… Sometimes, I think that Noon Is but a symbol of the Place— And when again, at Dawn,
808 So set its Sun in Thee What Day be dark to me— What Distance—far— So I the Ships may see
DEAR March, come in! How glad I am! I looked for you before. Put down your hat— You must have walked—
