#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
Had we our senses But perhaps ’tis well they’re not… So intimate with Madness He’s liable with them Had we the eyes without our Head—
235 The Court is far away— No Umpire—have I— My Sovereign is offended— To gain his grace—I’d die!
882 A Shade upon the mind there passe… As when on Noon A Cloud the mighty Sun encloses Remembering
721 Behind Me’—dips Eternity’— Before Me’—Immortality’— Myself’—the Term between’— Death but the Drift of Eastern G…
743 The Birds reported from the South… A News express to Me— A spicy Charge, My little Posts— But I am deaf—Today—
589 The Night was wide, and furnished… With but a single Star— That often as a Cloud it met— Blew out itself—for fear—
785 They have a little Odor—that to m… Is metre—nay—’tis melody— And spiciest at fading—indicate— A Habit—of a Laureate—
6 Frequently the wood are pink— Frequently are brown. Frequently the hills undress Behind my native town.
78 A poor—torn heart—a tattered heart… That sat it down to rest— Nor noticed that the Ebbing Day Flowed silver to the West—
If you were coming in the fall, I’d brush the summer by With half a smile and half a spum, As housewives do a fly. If I could see you in a year,
After great pain a formal feeling… The nerves sit ceremonious like to… The stiff Heart questions—was it… And yesterday—or centuries before? The feet, mechanical, go round
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…
198 An awful Tempest mashed the air— The clouds were gaunt, and few— A Black—as of a Spectre’s Cloak Hid Heaven and Earth from view.
968 Fitter to see Him, I may be For the long Hindrance—Grace—to… With Summers, and with Winters, g… Some passing Year—A trait bestow
480 “Why do I love” You, Sir? Because— The Wind does not require the Gra… To answer—Wherefore when He pass
