#AmericanWriters #FemaleWriters #XIXCentury
556 The Brain, within its Groove Runs evenly—and true— But let a Splinter swerve— ’Twere easier for You—
506 He touched me, so I live to know That such a day, permitted so, I groped upon his breast— It was a boundless place to me
614 In falling Timbers buried— There breathed a Man— Outside—the spades—were plying— The Lungs—within—
Those fair—fictitious People— The Women—plucked away From our familiar Lifetime— The Men of Ivory— Those Boys and Girls, in Canvas—
No rack can torture me, My soul’s at liberty Behind this mortal bone There knits a bolder one You cannot prick with saw,
346 Not probable—The barest Chance— A smile too few—a word too much And far from Heaven as the Rest— The Soul so close on Paradise—
916 His Feet are shod with Gauze— His Helmet, is of Gold, His Breast, a Single Onyx With Chrysophrase, inlaid.
586 We talked as Girls do— Fond, and late— We speculated fair, on every subje… Of ours, none affair—
570 I could die—to know— ’Tis a trifling knowledge— News-Boys salute the Door— Carts—joggle by—
766 My Faith is larger than the Hills… So when the Hills decay— My Faith must take the Purple Wh… To show the Sun the way—
Spring comes on the World - I sight the Aprils - Hueless to me until thou come As, till the Bee Blossoms stand negative,
229 A Burdock—clawed my Gown— Not Burdock’s—blame— But mine— Who went too near
181 I lost a World - the other day! Has Anybody found? You’ll know it by the Row of Star… Around its forehead bound.
448 This was a Poet—It is That Distills amazing sense From ordinary Meanings— And Attar so immense
XXVI THE brain within its groove Runs evenly and true; But let a splinter swerve, ’T were easier for you
