809 Unable are the Loved to die For Love is Immortality, Nay, it is Deity— Unable they that love—to die

989 Gratitude—is not the mention Of a Tenderness, But its still appreciation Out of Plumb of Speech.

37 Before the ice is in the pools— Before the skaters go, Or any check at nightfall Is tarnished by the snow—

604 Unto my Books—so good to turn— Far ends of tired Days— It half endears the Abstinence— And Pain—is missed—in Praise—

470 I am alive—I guess— The Branches on my Hand Are full of Morning Glory— And at my finger’s end—

My Garden—like the Beach— Denotes there be—a Sea— That’s Summer— Such as These—the Pearls She fetches—such as Me

401 What Soft—Cherubic Creatures— These Gentlewomen are— One would as soon assault a Plush… Or violate a Star—

I know a place where summer strive… With such a practised frost, She each year leads her daisies ba… Recording briefly, ‘Lost.’ But when the south wind stirs the…

421 A Charm invests a face Imperfectly beheld— The Lady dare not lift her Veil For fear it be dispelled—

My River runs to thee’— Blue Sea! Wilt welcome me? My River wait reply’— Oh Sea’—look graciously’— I’ll fetch thee Brooks