#AmericanWriters #FemaleWriters #XIXCentury
I years had been from home, And now, before the door, I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before Stare vacant into mine
Good night! which put the candle o… A jealous zephyr, not a doubt. Ah! friend, you little knew How long at that celestial wick The angels labored diligent;
XI MUCH madness is divinest sense To a discerning eye; Much sense the starkest madness. ’T is the majority
No matter—now—Sweet— But when I’m Earl— Won’t you wish you’d spoken To that dull Girl? Trivial a Word—just—
As from the earth the light Ballo… Asks nothing but release - Ascension that for which it was, Its soaring Residence. The spirit looks upon the Dust
399 A House upon the Height— That Wagon never reached— No Dead, were ever carried down— No Peddler’s Cart—approached—
757 The Mountains—grow unnoticed— Their Purple figures rise Without attempt—Exhaustion— Assistance—or Applause—
LX The grass so little has to do,— A sphere of simple green, With only butterflies to brood, And bees to entertain,
540 I took my Power in my Hand— And went against the World— ’Twas not so much as David—had— But I—was twice as bold—
There’s been a death in the opposi… As lately as to-day. I know it by the numb look Such houses have alway. The neighbors rustle in and out,
293 I got so I could take his name— Without—Tremendous gain— That Stop-sensation—on my Soul— And Thunder—in the Room—
424 Removed from Accident of Loss By Accident of Gain Befalling not my simple Days— Myself had just to earn—
535 She’s happy, with a new Content— That feels to her—like Sacrament— She’s busy—with an altered Care— As just apprenticed to the Air—
99 New feet within my garden go— New fingers stir the sod— A Troubadour upon the Elm Betrays the solitude.
902 The first Day that I was a Life I recollect it—How still— That last Day that I was a Life I recollect it—as well—