#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
462 Why make it doubt — it hurts it so… So sick — to guess — So strong — to know — So brave — upon its little Bed
752 So the Eyes accost—and sunder In an Audience— Stamped—occasionally—forever— So may Countenance
XLV DELIGHT becomes pictorial When viewed through pain,— More fair, because impossible That any gain.
GLEE! the great storm is over! Four have recovered the land; Forty gone down together Into the boiling sand. Ring, for the scant salvation!
777 The Loneliness One dare not sound… And would as soon surmise As in its Grave go plumbing To ascertain the size—
XLIV THE show is not the show, But they that go. Menagerie to me My neighbor be.
XXIX THE nearest dream recedes, unreal… The heaven we chase Like the June bee Before the school—boy
Proud of my broken heart, since th… Proud of the pain, I did not feel… Proud of my night, since thou, wit… Not to partake thy passion, –my hu… Thou can’st not boast, like Jesus…
348 I would not paint—a picture— I’d rather be the One It’s bright impossibility To dwell—delicious—on—
506 He touched me, so I live to know That such a day, permitted so, I groped upon his breast— It was a boundless place to me
88 As by the dead we love to sit, Become so wondrous dear— As for the lost we grapple Tho’ all the rest are here—
376 Of Course—I prayed— And did God Care? He cared as much as on the Air A Bird—had stamped her foot—
453 Love — thou art high — I cannot climb thee — But, were it Two — Who knows but we —
584 It ceased to hurt me, though so sl… I could not feel the Anguish go— But only knew by looking back— That something—had benumbed the T…
There’s been a death in the opposi… As lately as to-day. I know it by the numb look Such houses have alway. The neighbors rustle in and out,
