#AmericanWriters #FemaleWriters #XIXCentury
The Grass so little has to do— A Sphere of simple Green— With only Butterflies to brood And Bees to entertain— And stir all day to pretty Tunes
468 The Manner of its Death When Certain it must die— ’Tis deemed a privilege to choose— ’Twas Major Andre’s Way—
401 What Soft—Cherubic Creatures— These Gentlewomen are— One would as soon assault a Plush… Or violate a Star—
XIV I’M ceded, I ’ve stopped being th… The name they dropped upon my face With water, in the country church, Is finished using now,
721 Behind Me’—dips Eternity’— Before Me’—Immortality’— Myself’—the Term between’— Death but the Drift of Eastern G…
The Clover’s simple Fame Remembered of the Cow - Is better than enameled Realms Of notability. Renown perceives itself
978 It bloomed and dropt, a Single No… The Flower—distinct and Red— I, passing, thought another Noon Another in its stead
176 I’m the little “Heart’s Ease”! I don’t care for pouting skies! If the Butterfly delay Can I, therefore, stay away?
859 A doubt if it be Us Assists the staggering Mind In an extremer Anguish Until it footing find.
527 To put this World down, like a Bu… And walk steady, away, Requires Energy—possibly Agony— ’Tis the Scarlet way
453 Love — thou art high — I cannot climb thee — But, were it Two — Who knows but we —
126 To fight aloud, is very brave— But gallanter, I know Who charge within the bosom The Cavalry of Woe—
79 Going to Heaven! I don’t know when— Pray do not ask me how! Indeed I’m too astonished
987 The Leaves like Women interchange Exclusive Confidence— Somewhat of nods and somewhat Portentous inference.
928 The Heart has narrow Banks It measures like the Sea In mighty—unremitting Bass And Blue Monotony
