#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
659 That first Day, when you praised… And said that I was strong— And could be mighty, if I liked— That Day—the Days among—
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
160 Just lost, when I was saved! Just felt the world go by! Just girt me for the onset with E… When breath blew back,
238 Kill your Balm—and its Odors bles… Bare your Jessamine—to the storm— And she will fling her maddest per… Haply—your Summer night to Charm—
726 We thirst at first—’tis Nature’s… And later—when we die— A little Water supplicate— Of fingers going by—
180 As if some little Arctic flower Upon the polar hem— Went wandering down the Latitudes Until it puzzled came
XVII WHEN night is almost done, And sunrise grows so near That we can touch the spaces, It ’s time to smooth the hair
251 Over the fence— Strawberries—grow— Over the fence— I could climb—if I tried, I know—
830 To this World she returned. But with a tinge of that— A Compound manner, As a Sod
810 Her Grace is all she has— And that, so least displays— One Art to recognize, must be, Another Art, to praise.
852 Apology for Her Be rendered by the Bee— Herself, without a Parliament Apology for Me.
354 From Cocoon forth a Butterfly As Lady from her Door Emerged—a Summer Afternoon— Repairing Everywhere—
335 ’Tis not that Dying hurts us so— ’Tis Living—hurts us more— But Dying—is a different way— A Kind behind the Door—
869 Because the Bee may blameless hum For Thee a Bee do I become List even unto Me. Because the Flowers unafraid
879 Each Second is the last Perhaps, recalls the Man Just measuring unconsciousness The Sea and Spar between.
