990 Not all die early, dying young— Maturity of Fate Is consummated equally In Ages, or a Night—

815 The Luxury to apprehend The Luxury 'twould be To look at Thee a single time An Epicure of Me

370 Heaven is so far of the Mind That were the Mind dissolved— The Site—of it—by Architect Could not again be proved—

364 The Morning after Woe— ’Tis frequently the Way— Surpasses all that rose before— For utter Jubilee—

725 Where Thou art—that—is Home— Cashmere—or Calvary—the same— Degree—or Shame— I scarce esteem Location’s Name—

635 I think the longest Hour of all Is when the Cars have come— And we are waiting for the Coach— It seems as though the Time

234 You’re right—“the way is narrow”— And “difficult the Gate”— And “few there be”—Correct again— That “enter in—thereat”—

She sweeps with many-colored broom… And leaves the shreds behind; Oh, housewife in the evening west, Come back, and dust the pond! You dropped a purple ravelling in,

One need not be a chamber to be ha… One need not be a house; The brain has corridors surpassing Material place. Far safer, of a midnight meeting

354 From Cocoon forth a Butterfly As Lady from her Door Emerged—a Summer Afternoon— Repairing Everywhere—

Remorse– is Memory– awake - Her Parties all astir - A Presence of Departed Acts - At window– and at Door – Its Past - set down before the S…