#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
LXV GOOD night! which put the candle… A jealous zephyr, not a doubt. Ah! friend, you little knew How long at that celestial wick
407 If What we could—were what we wou… Criterion—be small— It is the Ultimate of Talk— The Impotence to Tell—
A clock stopped—not the mantel’s Geneva’s farthest skill Can’t put the puppet bowing That just now dangled still. An awe came on the trinket!
354 From Cocoon forth a Butterfly As Lady from her Door Emerged—a Summer Afternoon— Repairing Everywhere—
496 As far from pity, as complaint— As cool to speech—as stone— As numb to Revelation As if my Trade were Bone—
The Butterfly in honored Dust Assuredly will lie But none will pass the Catacomb So chastened as the Fly -
385 Smiling back from Coronation May be Luxury— On the Heads that started with us… Being’s Peasantry—
Pain—has an Element of Blank— It cannot recollect When it begun—or if there were A time when it was not— It has no Future—but itself—
Shall I take thee, the Poet said To the propounded word? Be stationed with the Candidates Till I have finer tried— The Poet searched Philology
That only lasts an hour How much '— how little '— is Within our power
Sometimes with the Heart Seldom with the Soul Scarcer once with the Might Few - love at all.
How slow the Wind - how slow the sea - how late their Fathers be!
370 Heaven is so far of the Mind That were the Mind dissolved— The Site—of it—by Architect Could not again be proved—
194 On this long storm the Rainbow ro… On this late Morn—the Sun— The clouds—like listless Elephant… Horizons—straggled down—
126 To fight aloud, is very brave— But gallanter, I know Who charge within the bosom The Cavalry of Woe—
