#AmericanWriters #FemaleWriters #XIXCentury
681 Soil of Flint, if steady tilled— Will refund by Hand— Seed of Palm, by Libyan Sun Fructified in Sand—
83 Heart, not so heavy as mine Wending late home— As it passed my window Whistled itself a tune—
867 Escaping backward to perceive The Sea upon our place— Escaping forward, to confront His glittering Embrace—
Could Hope inspect her Basis Her Craft were done - Has a fictitious Charter Or it has none - Balked in the vastest instance
877 Each Scar I’ll keep for Him Instead I’ll say of Gem In His long Absence worn A Costlier one
We don’t cry—Tim and I, We are far too grand— But we bolt the door tight To prevent a friend— Then we hide our brave face
These—saw Visions— Latch them softly— These—held Dimples— Smooth them slow— This—addressed departing accents—
209 With thee, in the Desert— With thee in the thirst— With thee in the Tamarind wood— Leopard breathes—at last!
LXIII Ample make this bed. Make this bed with awe; In it wait till judgment break Excellent and fair.
Not Sickness stains the Brave, Nor any Dart, Nor Doubt of Scene to come, But an adjourning Heart -
528 Mine—by the Right of the White E… Mine—by the Royal Seal! Mine—by the sign in the Scarlet p… Bars—cannot conceal!
A lane of Yellow led the eye Unto a Purple Wood Whose soft inhabitants to be Surpasses solitude If Bird the silence contradict
275 Doubt Me! My Dim Companion! Why, God, would be content With but a fraction of the Life— Poured thee, without a stint—
106 The Daisy follows soft the Sun— And when his golden walk is done— Sits shyly at his feet— He—waking—finds the flower there—
530 You cannot put a Fire out— A Thing that can ignite Can go, itself, without a Fan— Upon the slowest Night—
