#AmericanWriters #FemaleWriters #XIXCentury
Why – do they shut Me out of Heav… Did I sing – too loud? But – I can say a little “minor” Timid as a Bird! Wouldn’t the Angels try me –
XXXVIII THROUGH the straight pass of su… The martyrs even trod, Their feet upon temptation, Their faces upon God.
407 If What we could—were what we wou… Criterion—be small— It is the Ultimate of Talk— The Impotence to Tell—
451 The Outer—from the Inner Derives its Magnitude— ’Tis Duke, or Dwarf, according As is the Central Mood—
The bustle in a house The morning after death Is solemnest of industries Enacted upon earth,— The sweeping up the heart,
Glory is that bright tragic thing That for an instant Means Dominion - Warms some poor name That never felt the Sun,
157 Musicians wrestle everywhere— All day—among the crowded air I hear the silver strife— And—walking—long before the morn—
491 While it is alive Until Death touches it While it and I lap one Air Dwell in one Blood
892 Who occupies this House? A Stranger I must judge Since No one know His Circumstan… ’Tis well the name and age
851 When the Astronomer stops seeking For his Pleiad’s Face— When the lone British Lady Forsakes the Arctic Race
749 All but Death, can be Adjusted— Dynasties repaired— Systems—settled in their Sockets— Citadels—dissolved—
522 Had I presumed to hope— The loss had been to Me A Value—for the Greatness’ Sake— As Giants—gone away—
801 I play at Riches—to appease The Clamoring for Gold— It kept me from a Thief, I think, For often, overbold
714 Rest at Night The Sun from shining, Nature—and some Men— Rest at Noon—some Men—
215 What is – “Paradise” – Who live there – Are they “Farmers” – Do they “hoe” –
