#AmericanWriters #FemaleWriters #XIXCentury
113 Our share of night to bear— Our share of morning— Our blank in bliss to fill Our blank in scorning—
308 I send Two Sunsets— Day and I—in competition ran— I finished Two—and several Stars— While He—was making One—
453 Love — thou art high — I cannot climb thee — But, were it Two — Who knows but we —
717 The Beggar Lad—dies early— It’s Somewhat in the Cold— And Somewhat in the Trudging feet… And haply, in the World—
830 To this World she returned. But with a tinge of that— A Compound manner, As a Sod
I SHOULD have been too glad, I… Too lifted for the scant degree Of life’s penurious round; My little circuit would have shame… This new circumference, have blame…
911 Too little way the House must lie From every Human Heart That holds in undisputed Lease A white inhabitant—
882 A Shade upon the mind there passe… As when on Noon A Cloud the mighty Sun encloses Remembering
He fumbles at your spirit As players at the keys Before they drop full music on; He stuns you by degrees, Prepares your brittle substance
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…
LXII BEFORE I got my eye put out, I liked as well to see As other creatures that have eyes, And know no other way.
336 The face I carry with me—last— When I go out of Time— To take my Rank—by—in the West— That face—will just be thine—
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—
Publication—is the Auction Of the Mind of Man— Poverty—be justifying For so foul a thing Possibly—but We—would rather
A bird came down the walk: He did not know I saw; He bit an angle-worm in halves And ate the fellow, raw. And then he drank a dew
