Poetessa, nato venerdì 10 dicembre 1830 a Amherst, Massachusetts (USA - Stati Uniti d'America), morto sabato 15 maggio 1886 a Amherst, Massachusetts (USA - Stati Uniti d'America)
Through what transports of Patience I reached the stolid Bliss To breathe my Blank without thee Attest me this and this - By that bleak exultation I won as near as this Thy privilege of dying Abbreviate me this.
Tell as a Marksman - were forgotten Tell - this Day endures Ruddy as that Coeval Apple The Tradition bears - Fresh as Mankind that humble story While a statelier Tale Grown in the Repetition hoary Scarcely would prevail -
Tell had a son - The ones that knew it Need not linger here - Those who did not to Human nature Will subscribe a Tear -
Tell would not bare his Head In Presence Of the Ducal Hat - Threatened for that with Death - by Gessler - Tyranny bethought
Make of his only Boy a Target That surpasses Death - Stolid to Love's supreme entreaty Not forsook of Faith -
Mercy of the Almighty begging - Tell his Arrow sent - God it is said replies in Person When the Cry is meant.
What did They do since I saw Them? Were They industrious? So many questions to put Them Have I the Eagerness That could I snatch Their Faces That could Their lips reply Not till the last was answered Should They start for the Sky -
Not if the Just suspect Me And offer a Reward Would I restore my Booty To that Bold Person, God,
Not if Their Party were waiting, Not if to talk with Me Were to Them now, Homesickness After Eternity.
There is a finished feeling Experienced at Graves - A leisure of the Future - A Wilderness of Size. By Death's bold Exhibition Preciser what we are And the Eternal function Enabled to infer.
To own the Art within the Soul The Soul to entertain With Silence as a Company And Festival maintain Is an unfurnished Circumstance Possession is to One As an Estate perpetual Or a reduceless Mine.
Banish Air from Air - Divide Light if you dare - They'll meet While Cubes in a Drop Or Pellets of Shape Fit - Films cannot annul Odors return whole Force Flame And with a Blonde push Over your impotence Flits Steam.
When One has given up One's life The parting with the rest Feels easy, as when Day lets go Entirely the West The Peaks, that lingered last Remain in Her regret As scarcely as the Iodine Upon the Cataract.
I could not prove the Years had feet - Yet confident they run Am I, from symptoms that are past And Series that are done - I find my feet have further Goals - I smile upon the Aims That felt so ample - Yesterday - Today's - have vaster claims -
I do not doubt the Self I was Was competent to me - But something awkward in the fit - Proves that - outgrown - I see.
Conjecturing a Climate Of unsuspended Suns - Adds poignancy to Winter - The freezing Fancy turns To a fictitious Summer To palliate a Cold - Not obviated of Degree - Nor eased - of Latitude.
I measure every Grief I meet With narrow, probing, Eyes - I wonder if It weighs like Mine - Or has an Easier size - I wonder if They bore it long - Or did it just begin - I could not tell the Date of Mine - It feels so old a pain -
I wonder if it hurts to live - And if They have to try - And whether - could They choose between - It would not be - to die -
I note that Some - gone patient long - At length, renew their smile - An imitation of a Light That has so little Oil -
I wonder if when Years have piled - Some Thousands - on the Harm - That hurt them Early - such a lapse Could give them any Balm -
Or would they go on aching still Through Centuries of Nerve - Enlightened to a larger Pain - In Contrast with the Love -
The Grieved - are many - I am told - There is the various Cause - Death - is but one - and comes but once - And only nails the eyes -
There's Grief of Want - and Grief of Cold - A sort they call "Despair" - There's Banishment from native Eyes - In sight of Native Air -
And though I may not guess the kind - Correctly - yet to me A piercing Comfort it affords In passing Calvary -
To note the fashions - of the Cross - And how they're mostly worn - Still fascinated to presume That Some - are like My Own.