557 She hideth Her the last— And is the first, to rise— Her Night doth hardly recompense The Closing of Her eyes—

321 Of all the Sounds despatched abro… There’s not a Charge to me Like that old measure in the Boug… That phraseless Melody—

945 This is a Blossom of the Brain— A small—italic Seed Lodged by Design or Happening The Spirit fructified—

314 Nature—sometimes sears a Sapling— Sometimes—scalps a Tree— Her Green People recollect it When they do not die—

982 No Other can reduce Our mortal Consequence Like the remembering it be nought A Period from hence

363 I went to thank Her— But She Slept— Her Bed—a funneled Stone— With Nosegays at the Head and Fo…

749 All but Death, can be Adjusted— Dynasties repaired— Systems—settled in their Sockets— Citadels—dissolved—

801 I play at Riches—to appease The Clamoring for Gold— It kept me from a Thief, I think, For often, overbold

870 Finding is the first Act The second, loss, Third, Expedition for The “Golden Fleece”

960 As plan for Noon and plan for Nig… So differ Life and Death In positive Prospective— The Foot upon the Earth

152 The Sun kept stooping—stooping—lo… The Hills to meet him rose! On his side, what Transaction! On their side, what Repose!

698 Life—is what we make of it— Death—we do not know— Christ’s acquaintance with Him Justify Him—though—

48 Once more, my now bewildered Dove Bestirs her puzzled wings Once more her mistress, on the dee… Her troubled question flings—

835 Nature and God—I neither knew Yet Both so well knew me They startled, like Executors Of My identity.