#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can ever warm me, I know that is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry....
373 I’m saying every day “If I should be a Queen, tomorrow… I’d do this way— And so I deck, a little,
The pedigree of honey Does not concern the bee; A clover, any time, to him Is aristocracy.
638 To my small Hearth His fire came— And all my House aglow Did fan and rock, with sudden ligh… ’Twas Sunrise—'twas the Sky—
40 When I count the seeds That are sown beneath, To bloom so, bye and bye— When I con the people
18 The Gentian weaves her fringes— The Maple’s loom is red— My departing blossoms Obviate parade.
614 In falling Timbers buried— There breathed a Man— Outside—the spades—were plying— The Lungs—within—
XIV SOME things that fly there be,— Birds, hours, the bumble-bee: Of these no elegy. Some things that stay there be,—
Escape is such a thankful Word I often in the Night Consider it unto myself No spectacle in sight Escape - it is the Basket
503 Better—than Music! For I—who hea… I was used—to the Birds—before— This—was different—’Twas Translat… Of all tunes I knew—and more—
XVI TO fight aloud is very brave, But gallanter, I know, Who charge within the bosom, The cavalry of woe.
It’s like the light,— A fashionless delight It’s like the bee,— A dateless melody. It’s like the woods,
THE BAT is dun with wrinkled wi… Like fallow article, And not a song pervades his lips, Or none perceptible. His small umbrella, quaintly halve…
355 ’Tis Opposites—entice— Deformed Men—ponder Grace— Bright fires—the Blanketless— The Lost—Day’s face—
772 The hallowing of Pain Like hallowing of Heaven, Obtains at a corporeal cost— The Summit is not given
