#AmericanWriters #FemaleWriters #XIXCentury
XII I CANNOT live with you, It would be life, And life is over there Behind the shelf
A thought went up my mind to-day That I have had before, But did not finish,—some way back, I could not fix the year, Nor where it went, nor why it came
955 The Hollows round His eager Eyes Were Pages where to read Pathetic Histories—although Himself had not complained.
XXXIX I MEANT to have but modest need… Such as content, and heaven; Within my income these could lie, And life and I keep even.
Of so divine a Loss We enter but the Gain, Indemnity for Loneliness That such a Bliss has been.
623 It was too late for Man— But early, yet, for God— Creation—impotent to help— But Prayer—remained—Our Side—
A Word dropped careless on a Page May stimulate an eye When folded in perpetual seam The Wrinkled Maker lie Infection in the sentence breeds
862 Light is sufficient to itself— If Others want to see It can be had on Window Panes Some Hours in the Day.
667 Bloom upon the Mountain—stated— Blameless of a Name— Efflorescence of a Sunset— Reproduced—the same—
291 How the old Mountains drip with S… How the Hemlocks burn— How the Dun Brake is draped in C… By the Wizard Sun—
599 There is a pain—so utter— It swallows substance up— Then covers the Abyss with Trance… So Memory can step
364 The Morning after Woe— ’Tis frequently the Way— Surpasses all that rose before— For utter Jubilee—
72 Glowing is her Bonnet, Glowing is her Cheek, Glowing is her Kirtle, Yet she cannot speak.
41 I robbed the Woods— The trusting Woods. The unsuspecting Trees Brought out their Burs and mosses
727 Precious to Me—She still shall be… Though She forget the name I bear… The fashion of the Gown I wear— The very Color of My Hair—
