#AmericanWriters #FemaleWriters #XIXCentury
If Nature smiles - the Mother mu… I’m sure, at many a whim Of Her eccentric Family - Is She so much to blame?
62 “Sown in dishonor”! Ah! Indeed! May this “dishonor” be? If I were half so fine myself
845 Be Mine the Doom— Sufficient Fame— To perish in Her Hand!
LXXIII I ’LL tell you how the sun rose,— A ribbon at a time. The steeples swam in amethyst, The news like squirrels ran.
Not “Revelation”—'tis—that waits, But our unfurnished eyes—
872 As the Starved Maelstrom laps the… As the Vulture teased Forces the Broods in lonely Valle… As the Tiger eased
The Soul selects her own Society— Then—shuts the Door— To her divine Majority— Present no more— Unmoved—she notes the Chariots—pa…
570 I could die—to know— ’Tis a trifling knowledge— News-Boys salute the Door— Carts—joggle by—
453 Love—thou art high— I cannot climb thee— But, were it Two— Who know but we—
To die—takes just a little while— They say it doesn't hurt— It's only fainter—by degrees— And then—it's out of sight— A darker Ribbon—for a Day—
Remorse– is Memory– awake - Her Parties all astir - A Presence of Departed Acts - At window– and at Door – Its Past - set down before the S…
Dying at my music! Bubble! Bubble! Hold me till the Octave’s run! Quick! Burst the Windows! Ritardando!
976 Death is a Dialogue between The Spirit and the Dust. “Dissolve” says Death—The Spirit… I have another Trust”—
XLIII I LIKE to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step
92 My friend must be a Bird’— Because it flies! Mortal, my friend must be, Because it dies!
