163 Tho’ my destiny be Fustian— Hers be damask fine— Tho’ she wear a silver apron— I, a less divine—

The words the happy say Are paltry melody But those the silent feel Are beautiful—

43 Could live—did live— Could die—did die— Could smile upon the whole Through faith in one he met not,

Pain—has an Element of Blank— It cannot recollect When it begun—or if there were A time when it was not— It has no Future—but itself—

869 Because the Bee may blameless hum For Thee a Bee do I become List even unto Me. Because the Flowers unafraid

462 Why make it doubt — it hurts it so… So sick — to guess — So strong — to know — So brave — upon its little Bed

861 Split the Lark—and you’ll find th… Bulb after Bulb, in Silver rolled… Scantilly dealt to the Summer Mor… Saved for your Ear when Lutes be…

425 Good Morning—Midnight— I’m coming Home— Day—got tired of Me— How could I—of Him?

453 Love — thou art high — I cannot climb thee — But, were it Two — Who knows but we —

194 On this long storm the Rainbow ro… On this late Morn—the Sun— The clouds—like listless Elephant… Horizons—straggled down—