#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
962 Midsummer, was it, when They died… A full, and perfect time— The Summer closed upon itself In Consummated Bloom—
383 Exhiliration—is within— There can no Outer Wine So royally intoxicate As that diviner Brand
787 Such is the Force of Happiness— The Least—can lift a Ton Assisted by its stimulus— Who Misery—sustain—
A little road not made of man, Enabled of the eye, Accessible to thill of bee, Or cart of butterfly. If town it have, beyond itself,
1034 His Bill an Auger is, His Head, a Cap and Frill. He laboreth at every Tree A Worm, His utmost Goal.
699 The Judge is like the Owl— I’ve heard my Father tell— And Owls do build in Oaks— So here’s an Amber Sill—
574 My first well Day — since many il… I asked to go abroad, And take the Sunshine in my hands… And see the things in Pod —
122 A something in a summer’s Day As slow her flambeaux burn away Which solemnizes me. A something in a summer’s noon—
607 Of nearness to her sundered Thing… The Soul has special times— When Dimness—looks the Oddity— Distinctness—easy—se ems—
921 If it had no pencil Would it try mine— Worn—now—and dull—sweet, Writing much to thee.
Tell all the Truth but tell it sl… Success in Circuit lies Too bright for our infirm Delight The Truth’s superb surprise As Lightning to the Children ease…
538 ’Tis true—They shut me in the Col… But then—Themselves were warm And could not know the feeling ’tw… Forget it—Lord—of Them—
662 Embarrassment of one another And God Is Revelation’s limit, Aloud
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—
22 All these my banners be. I sow my pageantry In May— It rises train by train—