#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
571 Must be a Woe— A loss or so— To bend the eye Best Beauty’s way—
132 I bring an unaccustomed wine To lips long parching Next to mine, And summon them to drink;
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
778 This that would greet—an hour ago— Is quaintest Distance—now— Had it a Guest from Paradise— Nor glow, would it, nor bow—
826 Love reckons by itself—alone— “As large as I”—relate the Sun To One who never felt it blaze— Itself is all the like it has—
There’s a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons— That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes— Heavenly Hurt, it gives us—
There is another sky, Ever serene and fair, And there is another sunshine, Though it be darkness there; Never mind faded forests, Austin,
They shut me up in Prose— As when a little Girl They put me in the Closet— Because they liked me “still”— Still! Could themself have peeped…
607 Of nearness to her sundered Thing… The Soul has special times— When Dimness—looks the Oddity— Distinctness—easy—se ems—
800 Two—were immortal twice— The privilege of few— Eternity—obtained—in Time— Reversed Divinity’—
917 Love—is anterior to Life— Posterior—to Death— Initial of Creation, and The Exponent of Earth—
The heart asks pleasure first And then, excuse from pain– And then, those little anodynes That deaden suffering; And then, to go to sleep;
XV I know some lonely houses off the… A robber ’d like the look of,— Wooden barred, And windows hanging low,
589 The Night was wide, and furnished… With but a single Star— That often as a Cloud it met— Blew out itself—for fear—
369 She lay as if at play Her life had leaped away— Intending to return— But not so soon—
