#Americans #Women #XIXCentury
153 Dust is the only Secret— Death, the only One You cannot find out all about In his “native town.”
947 Of Tolling Bell I ask the cause? “A Soul has gone to Heaven” I’m answered in a lonesome tone— Is Heaven then a Prison?
901 Sweet, to have had them lost For news that they be saved— The nearer they departed Us The nearer they, restored,
It dropped so low—in my Regard— I heard it hit the Ground— And go to pieces on the Stones At bottom of my Mind— Yet blamed the Fate that flung it…
212 Least Rivers—docile to some sea. My Caspian—thee.
923 How the Waters closed above Him We shall never know— How He stretched His Anguish to… That—is covered too—
932 My best Acquaintances are those With Whom I spoke no Word— The Stars that stated come to Tow… Esteemed Me never rude
285 The Robin’s my Criterion for Tun… Because I grow—where Robins do— But, were I Cuckoo born— I’d swear by him—
269 Bound—a trouble— And lives can bear it! Limit—how deep a bleeding go! So—many—drops—of vital scarlet—
25 She slept beneath a tree— Remembered but by me. I touched her Cradle mute— She recognized the foot—
493 The World—stands—solemner—to me— Since I was wed—to Him— A modesty befits the soul That bears another’s—name—
On this wondrous sea Sailing silently, Ho! Pilot, ho! Knowest thou the shore Where no breakers roar—
514 Her smile was shaped like other sm… The Dimples ran along— And still it hurt you, as some Bi… Did hoist herself, to sing,
851 When the Astronomer stops seeking For his Pleiad’s Face— When the lone British Lady Forsakes the Arctic Race
The Snow that never drifts - The transient, fragrant snow That comes a single time a Year Is softly driving now - So thorough in the Tree
