#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
153 Dust is the only Secret— Death, the only One You cannot find out all about In his “native town.”
577 If I may have it, when it’s dead, I’ll be contented—so— If just as soon as Breath is out It shall belong to me—
The spider holds a Silver Ball In unperceived Hands— And dancing softly to Himself His Yarn of Pearl—unwinds— He plies from Nought to Nought—
814 One Day is there of the Series Termed Thanksgiving Day. Celebrated part at Table Part in Memory.
933 Two Travellers perishing in Snow The Forests as they froze Together heard them strengthening Each other with the words
176 I’m the little “Heart’s Ease”! I don’t care for pouting skies! If the Butterfly delay Can I, therefore, stay away?
64 Some Rainbow—coming from the Fair… Some Vision of the World Cashmer… I confidently see! Or else a Peacock’s purple Train
252 I can wade Grief— Whole Pools of it— I’m used to that— But the least push of Joy
209 With thee, in the Desert— With thee in the thirst— With thee in the Tamarind wood— Leopard breathes—at last!
An everywhere of silver, With ropes of sand To keep it from effacing The track called land.
5 I have a Bird in spring Which for myself doth sing— The spring decoys. And as the summer nears—
413 I never felt at Home–Below– And in the Handsome Skies I shall not feel at Home–I know– I don’t like Paradise–
“Sic transit gloria mundi,” “How doth the busy bee,” “Dum vivimus vivamus,” I stay mine enemy! Oh “veni, vidi, vici!”
916 His Feet are shod with Gauze— His Helmet, is of Gold, His Breast, a Single Onyx With Chrysophrase, inlaid.
XXII I GAVE myself to him, And took himself for pay. The solemn contract of a life Was ratified this way.
