372 I know lives, I could miss Without a Misery— Others—whose instant’s wanting— Would be Eternity—

151 Mute thy Coronation— Meek my Vive le roi, Fold a tiny courtier In thine Ermine, Sir,

XVI TO fight aloud is very brave, But gallanter, I know, Who charge within the bosom, The cavalry of woe.

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

To mend each tattered Faith There is a needle fair Though no appearance indicate ’Tis threaded in the Air And though it do not wear

The sky is low, the clouds are mea… A travelling flake of snow Across a barn or through a rut Debates if it will go. A narrow wind complains all day

268 Me, change! Me, alter! Then I will, when on the Everlast… A Smaller Purple grows— At sunset, or a lesser glow

395 Reverse cannot befall That fine Prosperity Whose Sources are interior— As soon—Adversity

427 I’ll clutch—and clutch— Next—One—Might be the golden touc… Could take it— Diamonds—Wait—

549 That I did always love I bring thee Proof That till I loved I never lived—Enough—

Nature rarer uses Yellow Than another Hue. Saves she all of that for Sunsets Prodigal of Blue Spending Scarlet, like a Woman

It was not death, for I stood up, And all the dead lie down; It was not night, for all the bell… Put out their tongues, for noon. It was not frost, for on my flesh