#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
Of so divine a Loss We enter but the Gain, Indemnity for Loneliness That such a Bliss has been.
455 Triumph—may be of several kinds— There’s Triumph in the Room When that Old Imperator—Death— By Faith
78 A poor—torn heart—a tattered heart… That sat it down to rest— Nor noticed that the Ebbing Day Flowed silver to the West—
1035 Bee! I’m expecting you! Was saying Yesterday To Somebody you know That you were due—
704 672 No matter—now—Sweet— But when I’m Earl— Won’t you wish you’d spoken
190 He was weak, and I was strong—the… So He let me lead him in— I was weak, and He was strong the… So I let him lead me—Home.
50 I haven’t told my garden yet— Lest that should conquer me. I haven’t quite the strength now To break it to the Bee—
525 I think the Hemlock likes to stan… Upon a Marge of Snow— It suits his own Austerity— And satisfies an awe
The bustle in a house The morning after death Is solemnest of industries Enacted upon earth,— The sweeping up the heart,
917 Love—is anterior to Life— Posterior—to Death— Initial of Creation, and The Exponent of Earth—
253 You see I cannot see—your lifetim… I must guess— How many times it ache for me—toda… How many times for my far sake
58 Delayed till she had ceased to kno… Delayed till in its vest of snow Her loving bosom lay— An hour behind the fleeting breath…
608 Afraid! Of whom am I afraid? Not Death—for who is He? The Porter of my Father’s Lodge As much abasheth me!
873 Ribbons of the Year— Multitude Brocade— Worn to Nature’s Party once Then, as flung aside
843 I made slow Riches but my Gain Was steady as the Sun And every Night, it numbered more Than the preceding One
