#AmericanWriters #FemaleWriters #XIXCentury
315 He fumbles at your Soul As Players at the Keys Before they drop full Music on— He stuns you by degrees—
247 What would I give to see his face… I’d give—I’d give my life—of cour… But that is not enough! Stop just a minute—let me think!
122 A something in a summer’s Day As slow her flambeaux burn away Which solemnizes me. A something in a summer’s noon—
676 Least Bee that brew— A Honey’s Weight Content Her smallest fraction hel… The Amber Quantity—
432 Do People moulder equally, They bury, in the Grave? I do believe a Species As positively live
146 On such a night, or such a night, Would anybody care If such a little figure Slipped quiet from its chair—
Nature the gentlest mother is, Impatient of no child, The feeblest of the waywardest. Her admonition mild In forest and the hill
It was not death, for I stood up, And all the dead lie down; It was not night, for all the bell… Put out their tongues, for noon. It was not frost, for on my flesh
Remorse– is Memory– awake - Her Parties all astir - A Presence of Departed Acts - At window– and at Door – Its Past - set down before the S…
741 Drama’s Vitallest Expression is t… That arise and set about Us— Other Tragedy Perish in the Recitation—
The Clover’s simple Fame Remembered of the Cow - Is better than enameled Realms Of notability. Renown perceives itself
To make a prairie it takes a clove… One clover, and a bee. And revery. The revery alone will do, If bees are few.
XCIX THERE is no frigate like a book To take us lands away, Nor any coursers like a page Of prancing poetry.
78 A poor—torn heart—a tattered heart… That sat it down to rest— Nor noticed that the Ebbing Day Flowed silver to the West—
XXXVIII THROUGH the straight pass of su… The martyrs even trod, Their feet upon temptation, Their faces upon God.
