#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
501 This World is not Conclusion. A Species stands beyond— Invisible, as Music— But positive, as Sound—
784 Bereaved of all, I went abroad— No less bereaved was I Upon a New Peninsula— The Grave preceded me—
Longing is like the Seed That wrestles in the Ground, Believing if it intercede It shall at length be found. The Hour, and the Clime -
873 Ribbons of the Year— Multitude Brocade— Worn to Nature’s Party once Then, as flung aside
I heard a fly buzz when I died; The stillness round my form Was like the stillness in the air Between the heaves of storm. The eyes beside had wrung them dry…
924 Love—is that later Thing than Dea… More previous—than Life— Confirms it at its entrance—And Usurps it—of itself—
That only lasts an hour How much '— how little '— is Within our power
The words the happy say Are paltry melody But those the silent feel Are beautiful—
Are Friends Delight or Pain? Could Bounty but remain Riches were good - But if they only stay Ampler to fly away
731 “I want”—it pleaded—All its life— I want—was chief it said When Skill entreated it—the last— And when so newly dead—
124 In lands I never saw—they say Immortal Alps look down— Whose Bonnets touch the firmament… Whose Sandals touch the town—
Each life converges to some centre Expressed or still; Exists in every human nature A goal, Admitted scarcely to itself, it ma…
805 This Bauble was preferred of Bees… By Butterflies admired At Heavenly—Hopeless Distances— Was justified of Bird—
Whether they have forgotten Or are forgetting now Or never remembered - Safer not to know - Miseries of conjecture
930 There is a June when Corn is cut And Roses in the Seed— A Summer briefer than the first But tenderer indeed
