#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
247 What would I give to see his face… I’d give—I’d give my life—of cour… But that is not enough! Stop just a minute—let me think!
471 A Night—there lay the Days betwee… The Day that was Before— And Day that was Behind—were one— And now—'twas Night—was here—
Could mortal lip divine The undeveloped Freight Of a delivered syllable ‘Twould crumble with the weight.
XI MUCH madness is divinest sense To a discerning eye; Much sense the starkest madness. ’T is the majority
582 Inconceivably solemn! Things go gay Pierce—by the very Press Of Imagery—
Pink, small, and punctual, Aromatic, low, Covert in April, Candid in May, Dear to the moss,
Because I could not stop for Deat… He kindly stopped for me– The Carriage held but just Oursel… And Immortality. We slowly drove– He knew no haste
167 To learn the Transport by the Pai… As Blind Men learn the sun! To die of thirst—suspecting That Brooks in Meadows run!
Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself,
150 She died—this was the way she died… And when her breath was done Took up her simple wardrobe And started for the sun—
They shut me up in Prose— As when a little Girl They put me in the Closet— Because they liked me “still”— Still! Could themself have peeped…
I know a place where summer strive… With such a practised frost, She each year leads her daisies ba… Recording briefly, ‘Lost.’ But when the south wind stirs the…
962 Midsummer, was it, when They died… A full, and perfect time— The Summer closed upon itself In Consummated Bloom—
I counted till they danced so Their slippers leaped the town, And then I took a pencil To note the rebels down. And then they grew so jolly
267 Did we disobey Him? Just one time! Charged us to forget Him— But we couldn’t learn!
