#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
189 It’s such a little thing to weep— So short a thing to sigh— And yet—by Trades—the size of the… We men and women die!
I felt a Funeral, in my Brain, And Mourners to and fro Kept treading—treading—till it see… That Sense was breaking through— And when they all were seated,
952 A Man may make a Remark— In itself—a quiet thing That may furnish the Fuse unto a… In dormant nature—lain—
UP with the sun, the breeze arose… Across the talking corn she goes, And smooth she rustles far and wid… Through all the voiceful countrysi… Through all the land her tale she…
IX THE heart asks pleasure first, And then, excuse from pain; And then, those little anodynes That deaden suffering;
587 Empty my Heart, of Thee— Its single Artery— Begin, and leave Thee out— Simply Extinction’s Date—
898 How happy I was if I could forget To remember how sad I am Would be an easy adversity But the recollecting of Bloom
315 He fumbles at your Soul As Players at the Keys Before they drop full Music on— He stuns you by degrees—
170 Portraits are to daily faces As an Evening West, To a fine, pedantic sunshine— In a satin Vest!
113 Our share of night to bear— Our share of morning— Our blank in bliss to fill Our blank in scorning—
679 Conscious am I in my Chamber, Of a shapeless friend— He doth not attest by Posture— Nor Confirm—by Word—
571 Must be a Woe— A loss or so— To bend the eye Best Beauty’s way—
241 I like a look of Agony, Because I know it’s true— Men do not sham Convulsion, Nor simulate, a Throe—
771 None can experience sting Who Bounty—have not known— The fact of Famine—could not be Except for Fact of Corn—
472 Except the Heaven had come so nea… So seemed to choose My Door— The Distance would not haunt me s… I had not hoped—before—