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)
My Wars are laid away in Books - I have one Battle more - A Foe whom I have never seen But oft has scanned me o'er - And hesitated me between And others at my side, But chose the best - Neglecting me - till All the rest have died - How sweet if I am not forgot By Chums that passed away - Since Playmates at threescore and ten Are such a scarcity.
Who is it seeks my Pillow Nights, With plain inspecting face - "Did you" or "Did you not," to ask - 'Tis "Conscience," Childhood's Nurse - With Martial Hand she strokes the Hair Upon my wincing Head - "All" Rogues "shall have their part in" what - The Phosphorous of God.
'Tis not the swaying frame we miss - It is the steadfast Heart, That had it beat a thousand years, With Love alone had bent - It's fervor the electric Oar, That bore it through the Tomb - Ourselves, denied the privilege, Consolelessly presume.
There came a Wind like a Bugle - It quivered through the Grass And a Green Chill upon the Heat So ominous did pass We barred the Windows and the Doors As from an Emerald Ghost - The Doom's electric Moccasin That very instant passed - On a strange Mob of panting Trees And Fences fled away And Rivers where the Houses ran Those looked that lived - that Day - The Bell within the steeple wild The flying tidings told - How much can come And much can go, And yet abide the World!
The Lassitudes of Contemplation Beget a force - They are the spirit's still vacation That him refresh - The Dreams consolidate in action - What mettle fair.
The Bobolink is gone - the Rowdy of the Meadow - And no one swaggers now but me - The Presbyterian Birds can now resume the Meeting He gaily interrupted that overflowing Day When opening the Sabbath in their afflictive Way He bowed to Heaven instead of Earth And shouted Let us pray.