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)
Crisis is sweet and yet the Heart Upon the hither side Has Dowers of Prospective Surrendered by the Tried - Inquire of the proudest Rose Which rapture - she preferred And she will tell you sighing - The transport of the Bud.
A wild Blue sky abreast of Winds That threatened it - did run And crouched behind his Yellow Door Was the defiant sun - Some conflict with those upper friends So genial in the main That we deplore peculiarly Their arrogant Campaign.
Sweet skepticism of the Heart - That knows - and does not know - And tosses like a Fleet of Balm - Affronted by the snow - Invites and then retards the truth Lest Certainty be sere Compared with the delicious throe Of transport thrilled with Fear.
Shame is the shawl of Pink In which we wrap the Soul To keep it from infesting Eyes - The elemental Veil Which helpless Nature drops When pushed upon a scene Repugnant to her probity - Shame is the tint divine.
I shall not murmur if at last The ones I loved below Permission have to understand For what I shunned them so - Divulging it would rest my Heart But it would ravage their's - Why, Katie, Treason has a Voice - But mine - dispels - in Tears.
Could mortal Lip divine The elemental Freight Of a delivered Syllable 'Twould crumble with the weight - The Prey of Unknown Zones - The Pillage of the Sea The Tabernacles of the Minds That told the Truth to me.
The Fact that Earth is Heaven - Whether Heaven is Heaven or not If not an Affidavit Of that specific Spot Not only must confirm us That it is not for us But that it would affront us To dwell in such a place.