732 She rose to His Requirement—dropt The Playthings of Her Life To take the honorable Work Of Woman, and of Wife—

122 A something in a summer’s Day As slow her flambeaux burn away Which solemnizes me. A something in a summer’s noon—

250 I shall keep singing! Birds will pass me On their way to Yellower Climes— Each—with a Robin’s expectation—

39 It did not surprise me— So I said—or thought— She will stir her pinions And the nest forgot,

128 Bring me the sunset in a cup, Reckon the morning’s flagons up And say how many Dew, Tell me how far the morning leaps—

763 He told a homely tale And spotted it with tears— Upon his infant face was set The Cicatrice of years—

368 How sick—to wait—in any place—but… I knew last night—when someone tri… Thinking—perhaps—that I looked ti… Or breaking—almost—with unspoken p…

307 The One who could repeat the Summ… Were greater than itself—though H… Minutest of Mankind should be— And He—could reproduce the Sun—

760 Most she touched me by her mutenes… Most she won me by the way She presented her small figure— Plea itself—for Charity—

900 What did They do since I saw The… Were They industrious? So many questions to put Them Have I the eagerness

498 I envy Seas, whereon He rides— I envy Spokes of Wheels Of Chariots, that Him convey— I envy Crooked Hills