#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
198 An awful Tempest mashed the air— The clouds were gaunt, and few— A Black—as of a Spectre’s Cloak Hid Heaven and Earth from view.
671 She dwelleth in the Ground— Where Daffodils—abide— Her Maker—Her Metropolis— The Universe—Her Maid—
539 The Province of the Saved Should be the Art—To save— Through Skill obtained in Themsel… The Science of the Grave
887 We outgrow love, like other things And put it in the Drawer— Till it an Antique fashion shows— Like Costumes Grandsires wore.
The Work of Her that went, The Toil of Fellows done - In Ovens green our Mother bakes, By Fires of the Sun.
766 My Faith is larger than the Hills… So when the Hills decay— My Faith must take the Purple Wh… To show the Sun the way—
735 Upon Concluded Lives There’s nothing cooler falls— Than Life’s sweet Calculations— The mixing Bells and Palls—
A chilly Peace infests the Grass The Sun respectful lies - Not any Trance of industry These shadows scrutinize - Whose Allies go no more astray
153 Dust is the only Secret— Death, the only One You cannot find out all about In his “native town.”
307 The One who could repeat the Summ… Were greater than itself—though H… Minutest of Mankind should be— And He—could reproduce the Sun—
The butterfly obtains But little sympathy Though favorably mentioned In Entomology - Because he travels freely
’Twas comfort in her Dying Room To hear the living Clock— A short relief to have the wind Walk boldly up and knock— Diversion from the Dying Theme
To mend each tattered Faith There is a needle fair Though no appearance indicate ’Tis threaded in the Air And though it do not wear
A Death blow is a Life blow to S… Who till they died, did not alive… Who had they lived, had died but w… They died, Vitality begun.
We play at paste, Till qualified for pearl, Then drop the paste, And deem ourself a fool. The shapes, though, were similar,