#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
I meant to find her when I came; Death had the same design; But the success was his, it seems, And the discomfit mine. I meant to tell her how I longed
825 An Hour is a Sea Between a few, and me— With them would Harbor be—
A little bread—a crust—a crumb— A little trust—a demijohn— Can keep the soul alive— Not portly, mind! but breathing—wa… Conscious—as old Napoleon,
1545 The Bible is an antique Volume— Written by faded men At the suggestion of Holy Spectre… Subjects—Bethlehem&mdash ;
142 Whose are the little beds, I aske… Which in the valleys lie? Some shook their heads, and others… And no one made reply.
600 It troubled me as once I was— For I was once a Child— Concluding how an Atom—fell— And yet the Heavens—held—
840 I cannot buy it—’tis not sold— There is no other in the World— Mine was the only one I was so happy I forgot
364 The Morning after Woe— ’Tis frequently the Way— Surpasses all that rose before— For utter Jubilee—
LXXIII I ’LL tell you how the sun rose,— A ribbon at a time. The steeples swam in amethyst, The news like squirrels ran.
The Butterfly in honored Dust Assuredly will lie But none will pass the Catacomb So chastened as the Fly -
322 There came a Day at Summer’s full… Entirely for me— I thought that such were for the… Where Resurrections—be—
1034 His Bill an Auger is, His Head, a Cap and Frill. He laboreth at every Tree A Worm, His utmost Goal.
400 A Tongue—to tell Him I am true! Its fee—to be of Gold— Had Nature—in Her monstrous Hous… A single Ragged Child—
677 To be alive—is Power— Existence—in itself— Without a further function— Omnipotence—Enough—
63 If pain for peace prepares Lo, what “Augustan” years Our feet await! If springs from winter rise,
