#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
THE BAT is dun with wrinkled wi… Like fallow article, And not a song pervades his lips, Or none perceptible. His small umbrella, quaintly halve…
834 Before He comes we weigh the Time… ’Tis Heavy and ’tis Light. When He depart, an Emptiness Is the prevailing Freight.
263 Is all that pins the Soul That stands for Deity, to Mine, Upon my side the Veil— Once witnessed of the Gauze—
147 Bless God, he went as soldiers, His musket on his breast— Grant God, he charge the bravest Of all the martial blest!
The dying need but little, dear,— A glass of water’s all, A flower’s unobtrusive face To punctuate the wall, A fan, perhaps, a friend’s regret,
428 Taking up the fair Ideal, Just to cast her down When a fracture—we discover— Or a splintered Crown—
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—
191 The Skies can’t keep their secret… They tell it to the Hills— The Hills just tell the Orchards— And they—the Daffodils!
106 The Daisy follows soft the Sun— And when his golden walk is done— Sits shyly at his feet— He—waking—finds the flower there—
31 Summer for thee, grant I may be When Summer days are flown! Thy music still, when Whipporwill And Oriole—are done!
There comes a warning like a spy A shorter breath of Day A stealing that is not a stealth And Summers are away
5 I have a Bird in spring Which for myself doth sing— The spring decoys. And as the summer nears—
The bustle in a house The morning after death Is solemnest of industries Enacted upon earth,— The sweeping up the heart,
565 One Anguish—in a Crowd— A Minor thing—it sounds— And yet, unto the single Doe Attempted of the Hounds
35 Nobody knows this little Rose— It might a pilgrim be Did I not take it from the ways And lift it up to thee.
