301 I reason, Earth is short— And Anguish—absolute— And many hurt, But, what of that?

327 Before I got my eye put out I liked as well to see— As other Creatures, that have Eye… And know no other way—

We like March, his shoes are purp… He is new and high; Makes he mud for dog and peddler, Makes he forest dry; Knows the adder’s tongue his comin…

776 The Color of a Queen, is this— The Color of a Sun At setting—this and Amber— Beryl—and this, at Noon—

Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself,

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

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

924 Love—is that later Thing than Dea… More previous—than Life— Confirms it at its entrance—And Usurps it—of itself—

694 The Heaven vests for Each In that small Deity It craved the grace to worship Some bashful Summer’s Day—

310 Give little Anguish— Lives will fret— Give Avalanches— And they’ll slant—