984 ’Tis Anguish grander than Delight ’Tis Resurrection Pain— The meeting Bands of smitten Face We questioned to, again.

675 Essential Oilsare wrung The Attar from the Rose Be not expressed by Sunsalone It is the gift of Screws

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

727 Precious to Me—She still shall be… Though She forget the name I bear… The fashion of the Gown I wear— The very Color of My Hair—

930 There is a June when Corn is cut And Roses in the Seed— A Summer briefer than the first But tenderer indeed

516 Beauty—be not caused—It Is— Chase it, and it ceases— Chase it not, and it abides— Overtake the Creases

805 This Bauble was preferred of Bees… By Butterflies admired At Heavenly—Hopeless Distances— Was justified of Bird—

896 Of Silken Speech and Specious Sh… A Traitor is the Bee His service to the newest Grace Present continually

I’m saying every day “If I should be a Queen, tomorrow… I’d do this way — And so I deck, a little, If it be, I wake a Bourbon,

My River runs to thee’— Blue Sea! Wilt welcome me? My River wait reply’— Oh Sea’—look graciously’— I’ll fetch thee Brooks

831 Dying! To be afraid of thee One must to thine Artillery Have left exposed a Friend— Than thine old Arrow is a Shot