Great Poems by American Women: An Anthology (Dover Thrift Editions)
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
"To My Dear and Loving Husband" and "Before the Birth of One of Her Children," written by America's first poet of note, Anne Bradstreet (1612-1672), appear here, along with "On Being Brought from Africa to America" and "On Imagination," by Phillis Wheatley (1753-1784), America's first great black woman poet. Selections also include more than a dozen beloved works by Emily Dickinson-"There's a certain slant of light," "I heard a fly buzz when I died," and "My life closed twice before its close," among others-as well as masterly verses by Hilda Doolittle, Gwendolyn Brooks, Edna St. Vincent Millay, Amy Lowell, Emma Lazarus, and numerous lesser-known authors.
A superb introduction to America's women poets, this engaging collection offers an inexpensive and rewarding resource for students, teachers, and all lovers of fine poetry. Includes 4 selections from the Common Core State Standards Initiative: "A Bird Came Down the Walls," "The New Colossus," "Because I Could Not Stop for Death," and "On Being Brought from Africa to America."
blooms were gone, And others showed them, smiling, in my face. Faintly I met the shock of circling forms Linked each to other, Fashion’s galley-slaves, Dream-wondering, like an unaccustomed ghost That starts, surprised, to stumble over graves. For graves were ‘neath my feet, whose placid masks Smiled out upon my folly mournfully, While all the host of the departed said, ‘Tread lightly—thou art ashes, even as we.’ Woman A vestal priestess, proudly pure, But of a meek and quiet spirit;
the Ball, and Other Poems (1875), Her Lover’s Friend, and Other Poems (1880), For a Woman, a novel (1885), and Hope Benham, a Story for Girls (1894). The Love-Knot Tying her bonnet under her chin, She tied her raven ringlets in; But not alone in the silken snare Did she catch her lovely floating hair, For, tying her bonnet under her chin, She tied a young man’s heart within. They were strolling together up the hill, Where the wind comes blowing merry and chill; And it blew the curls, a
who belonging to me will they know When I am gone. The Taxi When I go away from you The world beats dead Like a slackened drum. I call out for you against the jutted stars And shout into the ridges of the wind. Streets coming fast, One after the other, Wedge you away from me, And the lamps of the city prick my eyes So that I can no longer see your face. Why should I leave you, To wound myself upon the sharp edges of the night? Patterns I walk down the garden paths, And all the
she cannot see her lover hiding, But she guesses he is near, And the sliding of the water Seems the stroking of a dear Hand upon her. What is Summer in a fine brocaded gown! I should like to see it lying in a heap upon the ground. All the pink and silver crumpled up on the ground. I would be the pink and silver as I ran along the paths, And he would stumble after, Bewildered by my laughter. I should see the sun flashing from his sword-hilt and the buckles on his shoes. I would choose
forget, when I come back to town Grieve Not, Ladies Hail, happy saint! on thine immortal throne Hail, happy shades! though clad with heavy snows Harold the Valiant Heard you that shriek? It rose Heart of a Woman, The Heat Heaven is mirrored, Love, deep in thine eyes He fumbles at your spirit Helen Helen Hunt Jackson Her Horoscope He who plants a tree He woos me with those honeyed words High at the window in her cage High-lying, sea-blown stretches of green turf Hope is the thing