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)
If recollecting were forgetting, Then I remember not, And if forgetting, recollecting, How near I had forgot, And if to miss, were merry, And to mourn, were gay, How very blithe the fingers That gathered this, today!
There's something quieter than sleep Within this inner room! It wears a sprig upon it's breast - And will not tell it's name. Some touch it, and some kiss it - Some chafe it's idle hand - It has a simple gravity I do not understand!
I would not weep if I were they - How rude in one to sob! Might scare the quiet fairy Back to her native wood!
While simple-hearted neighbors Chat of the "Early dead" - We - prone to periphrasis, Remark that Birds have fled!
If she had been the Mistletoe And I had been the Rose - How gay upon your table My velvet life to Close - Since I am of the Druid - And she is of the dew - I'll deck Tradition's buttonhole And send the Rose to you.
Could live - did live - Could die - did die - Could smile upon the whole Through faith in one he met not - To introduce his soul - Could go from scene familiar To an untraversed spot - Could contemplate the journey With unpuzzled heart -
Such trust had one among us - Among us not today - We who saw the launching Never sailed the Bay.
A Day! Help! Help! Another Day! Your prayers - Oh Passer by! From such a common ball as this Might date a Victory! From marshallings as simple The flags of nations swang. Steady - my soul: What issues Upon thine arrow hang!
I robbed the Woods - The trusting Woods - The unsuspecting Trees Brought out their Burs and mosses My fantasy to please - I scanned their trinkets curious - I grasped - I bore away - What will the solemn Hemlock - What will the Oak tree say.
When Roses cease to bloom, Sir, And Violets are done - When Bumblebees in solemn flight Have passed beyond the Sun - The hand that paused to gather Upon this Summer's day Will idle lie - in Auburn - Then take my flowers - pray!
If this is "fading" Oh let me immediately "fade"! If this is "dying" Bury me, in such a shroud of red! If this is "sleep", On such a night How proud to shut the eye! Good evening, gentle Fellow men! Peacock presumes to die!
Talk with prudence to a Beggar Of "Potosi", and the mines! Reverently, to the Hungry Of your viands, and your wines! Cautious, hint to any Captive You have passed enfranchized feet! Anecdotes of air, in Dungeons Have sometimes proved deadly sweet!
My friend attacks my friend! Oh Battle picturesque! Then I turn Soldier too, And he turns Satirist! How martial is this place! Had I a mighty gun I think I'd shoot the human race And then to glory run!