#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
There is another sky, Ever serene and fair, And there is another sunshine, Though it be darkness there; Never mind faded forests, Austin,
110 Artists wrestled here! Lo, a tint Cashmere! Lo, a Rose! Student of the Year!
687 I’ll send the feather from my Hat… Who knows—but at the sight of that My Sovereign will relent? As trinket—worn by faded Child—
334 All the letters I can write Are not fair as this— Syllables of Velvet— Sentences of Plush,
75 She died at play, Gambolled away Her lease of spotted hours, Then sank as gaily as a Turn
A little Dog that wags his tail And knows no other joy Of such a little Dog am I Reminded by a Boy Who gambols all the living Day
The Face we choose to miss - Be it but for a Day As absent as a Hundred Years, When it has rode away.
589 The Night was wide, and furnished… With but a single Star— That often as a Cloud it met— Blew out itself—for fear—
241 I like a look of Agony, Because I know it’s true— Men do not sham Convulsion, Nor simulate, a Throe—
927 Absent Place—an April Day— Daffodils a-blow Homesick curiosity To the Souls that snow—
87 A darting fear—a pomp—a tear— A waking on a morn To find that what one waked for, Inhales the different dawn.
The soul selects her own society, Then shuts the door; On her divine majority Obtrude no more. Unmoved, she notes the chariot’s p…
Why – do they shut Me out of Heav… Did I sing – too loud? But – I can say a little “minor” Timid as a Bird! Wouldn’t the Angels try me –
567 He gave away his Life— To Us—Gigantic Sum— A trifle—in his own esteem— But magnified—by Fame—
1763 Fame is a bee. It has a song— It has a sting— Ah, too, it has a wing.