#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
671 She dwelleth in the Ground— Where Daffodils—abide— Her Maker—Her Metropolis— The Universe—Her Maid—
LXIII TALK with prudence to a beggar Of “Potosi” and the mines! Reverently to the hungry Of your viands and your wines!
131 Besides the Autumn poets sing A few prosaic days A little this side of the snow And that side of the Haze—
501 This World is not Conclusion. A Species stands beyond— Invisible, as Music— But positive, as Sound—
114 Good night, because we must, How intricate the dust! I would go, to know! Oh incognito!
761 From Blank to Blank— A Threadless Way I pushed Mechanic feet— To stop—or perish—or advance—
331 While Asters— On the Hill— Their Everlasting fashions—set— And Covenant Gentians—Frill!
136 Have you got a Brook in your litt… Where bashful flowers blow, And blushing birds go down to drin… And shadows tremble so—
LXVI WHEN I hoped I feared, Since I hoped I dared; Everywhere alone As a church remain;
453 Love — thou art high — I cannot climb thee — But, were it Two — Who knows but we —
The soul selects her own society, Then shuts the door; On her divine majority Obtrude no more. Unmoved, she notes the chariot’s p…
Not any sunny tone From any fervent zone Find entrance there - Better a grave of Balm Toward human nature’s home -
518 Her sweet Weight on my Heart a N… Had scarcely deigned to lie— When, stirring, for Belief’s deli… My Bride had slipped away—
A drop fell on the apple tree Another on the roof; A half a dozen kissed the eaves, And made the gables laugh. A few went out to help the brook,
404 How many Flowers fail in Wood— Or perish from the Hill— Without the privilege to know That they are Beautiful—