#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
783 The Birds begun at Four o’clock— Their period for Dawn— A Music numerous as space— But neighboring as Noon—
Her final summer was it, And yet we guessed it not; If tenderer industriousness Pervaded her, we thought A further force of life
If all the griefs I am to have Would only come today, I am so happy I believe They’d laugh and run away. If all the joys I am to have
311 It sifts from Leaden Sieves— It powders all the Wood. It fills with Alabaster Wool The Wrinkles of the Road—
661 Could I but ride indefinite As doth the Meadow Bee And visit only where I liked And No one visit me
910 Experience is the Angled Road Preferred against the Mind By—Paradox—the Mind itself— Presuming it to lead
His bill an auger is, His head, a cap and frill. He laboreth at every tree,— A worm his utmost goal.
XXI HE ate and drank the precious wor… His spirit grew robust; He knew no more that he was poor, Nor that his frame was dust.
523 Sweet—You forgot—but I remembered Every time—for Two— So that the Sum be never hindered Through Decay of You—
215 What is – “Paradise” – Who live there – Are they “Farmers” – Do they “hoe” –
LXXIX I YEARS had been from home, And now, before the door, I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before
893 Drab Habitation of Whom? Tabernacle or Tomb— Or Dome of Worm— Or Porch of Gnome—
261 Put up my lute! What of—my Music! Since the sole ear I cared to cha… Passive—as Granite—laps My Music…
97 The rainbow never tells me That gust and storm are by, Yet is she more convincing Than Philosophy.
879 Each Second is the last Perhaps, recalls the Man Just measuring unconsciousness The Sea and Spar between.
