620 It makes no difference abroad— The Seasons—fit—the same— The Mornings blossom into Noons— And split their Pods of Flame—

Dare you see a Soul at the White… Then crouch within the door— Red—is the Fire’s common tint— But when the vivid Ore Has vanquished Flame’s conditions…

521 Endow the Living—with the Tears— You squander on the Dead, And They were Men and Women—now, Around Your Fireside—

The Notice that is called the Spr… Is but a month from here - Put up my Heart thy Hoary work And take a Rosy Chair. Not any House the Flowers keep -

I found the phrase to every though… I ever had, but one; And that defies me,—as a hand Did try to chalk the sun To races nurtured in the dark;—

I have no life but this, To lead it here; Nor any death, but lest Dispelled from there; Nor tie to earths to come,

A Word dropped careless on a Page May stimulate an eye When folded in perpetual seam The Wrinkled Maker lie Infection in the sentence breeds

735 Upon Concluded Lives There’s nothing cooler falls— Than Life’s sweet Calculations— The mixing Bells and Palls—

844 Spring is the Period Express from God. Among the other seasons Himself abide,

958 We met as Sparks—Diverging Flint… Sent various—scattered ways— We parted as the Central Flint Were cloven with an Adze—