#AmericanWriters #FemaleWriters #XIXCentury
972 Unfulfilled to Observation— Incomplete—to Eye— But to Faith—a Revolution In Locality—
After great pain, a formal feeling… The Nerves sit ceremonious, like… The stiff Heart questions was it… And Yesterday, or Centuries befor… The Feet, mechanical, go round—
It is an honorable thought, And makes one lift one’s hat, As one encountered gentlefolk Upon a daily street, That we’ve immortal place,
I had been hungry all the years– My noon had come, to dine– I, trembling, drew the table near And touched the curious wine. ‘T was this on tables I had seen
792 Through the strait pass of sufferi… The Martyrs—even—trod. Their feet—upon Temptations— Their faces—upon God—
430 It would never be Common—more—I s… Difference—had begun— Many a bitterness—had been— But that old sort—was done—
How firm Eternity must look To crumbling men like me The only Adamant Estate In all Identity - How mighty to the insecure
Presentiment is that long shadow o… Indicative that suns go down; The notice to the startled grass That darkness is about to pass.
‘Heavenly Father’ - take to thee The supreme iniquity Fashioned by thy candid Hand In a moment contraband - Though to trust us - seems to us
473 I am ashamed’—I hide’— What right have I’—to be a Bride’… So late a Dowerless Girl’— Nowhere to hide my dazzled Face’—
294 The Doomed—regard the Sunrise With different Delight— Because—when next it burns abroad They doubt to witness it—
885 Our little Kinsmen’—after Rain In plenty may be seen, A Pink and Pulpy multitude The tepid Ground upon.
15 The Guest is gold and crimson— An Opal guest and gray— Of Ermine is his doublet— His Capuchin gay—
950 The Sunset stopped on Cottages Where Sunset hence must be For treason not of His, but Life’… Gone Westerly, Today—
XV I know some lonely houses off the… A robber ’d like the look of,— Wooden barred, And windows hanging low,