1068 Further in Summer than the Birds Pathetic from the Grass A minor Nation celebrates Its unobtrusive Mass.

998 Best Things dwell out of Sight The Pearl—the Just—Our Thought. Most shun the Public Air Legitimate, and Rare—

The Grass so little has to do— A Sphere of simple Green— With only Butterflies to brood And Bees to entertain— And stir all day to pretty Tunes

719 A South Wind—has a pathos Of individual Voice— As One detect on Landings An Emigrant’s address.

732 She rose to His Requirement—dropt The Playthings of Her Life To take the honorable Work Of Woman, and of Wife—

My life had stood—a Loaded Gun— In Corners—till a Day The Owner passed—identified— And carried Me away— And now We roam in Sovereign Woo…

Our journey had advanced; Our feet were almost come To that odd fork in Being’s road, Eternity by term. Our pace took sudden awe,

The Clover’s simple Fame Remembered of the Cow - Is better than enameled Realms Of notability. Renown perceives itself

How slow the Wind - how slow the sea - how late their Fathers be!

202 My Eye is fuller than my vase— Her Cargo—is of Dew— And still—my Heart—my Eye outweig… East India—for you!

685 Not “Revelation”—'tis—that waits, But our unfurnished eyes—

89 Some things that fly there be— Birds—Hours—the Bumblebee— Of these no Elegy. Some things that stay there be—

806 A Planted Life—diversified With Gold and Silver Pain To prove the presence of the Ore In Particles—'tis when