#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
239 “Heaven”—is what I cannot reach! The Apple on the Tree— Provided it do hopeless—hang— That—"He aven" is—to Me!
424 Removed from Accident of Loss By Accident of Gain Befalling not my simple Days— Myself had just to earn—
124 In lands I never saw—they say Immortal Alps look down— Whose Bonnets touch the firmament… Whose Sandals touch the town—
869 Because the Bee may blameless hum For Thee a Bee do I become List even unto Me. Because the Flowers unafraid
212 Least Rivers—docile to some sea. My Caspian—thee.
528 Mine—by the Right of the White E… Mine—by the Royal Seal! Mine—by the sign in the Scarlet p… Bars—cannot conceal!
LXI EACH life converges to some cent… Expressed or still; Exists in every human nature A goal,
XXXIX I MEANT to have but modest need… Such as content, and heaven; Within my income these could lie, And life and I keep even.
312 Her—last Poems— Poets ended— Silver—perished—with her Tongue— Not on Record—bubbled Other,
896 Of Silken Speech and Specious Sh… A Traitor is the Bee His service to the newest Grace Present continually
433 Knows how to forget! But could It teach it? Easiest of Arts, they say When one learn how
575 “Heaven” has different Signs—to m… Sometimes, I think that Noon Is but a symbol of the Place— And when again, at Dawn,
620 It makes no difference abroad— The Seasons—fit—the same— The Mornings blossom into Noons— And split their Pods of Flame—
752 So the Eyes accost—and sunder In an Audience— Stamped—occasionally—forever— So may Countenance
785 They have a little Odor—that to m… Is metre—nay—’tis melody— And spiciest at fading—indicate— A Habit—of a Laureate—
