#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
981 As Sleigh Bells seem in summer Or Bees, at Christmas show— So fairy—so fictitious The individuals do
158 Dying! Dying in the night! Won’t somebody bring the light So I can see which way to go Into the everlasting snow?
916 His Feet are shod with Gauze— His Helmet, is of Gold, His Breast, a Single Onyx With Chrysophrase, inlaid.
482 We Cover Thee—Sweet Face— Not that We tire of Thee— But that Thyself fatigue of Us— Remember—as Thou go—
There’s a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons— That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes— Heavenly Hurt, it gives us—
I found the phrase to every though… I ever had, but one; And that defies me,—as a hand Did try to chalk the sun To races nurtured in the dark;—
IX THE heart asks pleasure first, And then, excuse from pain; And then, those little anodynes That deaden suffering;
603 He found my Being—set it up— Adjusted it to place— Then carved his name—upon it— And bade it to the East
XXIV WHETHER my bark went down at se… Whether she met with gales, Whether to isles enchanted She bent her docile sails;
286 That after Horror — that ’twas us… That passed the mouldering Pier — Just as the Granite Crumb let go… Our Savior, by a Hair —
982 No Other can reduce Our mortal Consequence Like the remembering it be nought A Period from hence
548 Death is potential to that Man Who dies—and to his friend— Beyond that—unconspicuous To Anyone but God—
966 All forgot for recollecting Just a paltry One— All forsook, for just a Stranger’… New Accompanying—
LXXXII THERE’S a certain slant of ligh… On winter afternoons, That oppresses, like the weight Of cathedral tunes.
577 If I may have it, when it’s dead, I’ll be contented—so— If just as soon as Breath is out It shall belong to me—