777 The Loneliness One dare not sound… And would as soon surmise As in its Grave go plumbing To ascertain the size—

509 If anybody’s friend be dead It’s sharpest of the theme The thinking how they walked alive… At such and such a time—

566 A Dying Tiger—moaned for Drink— I hunted all the Sand— I caught the Dripping of a Rock And bore it in my Hand—

243 I’ve known a Heaven, like a Tent— To wrap its shining Yards— Pluck up its stakes, and disappear… Without the sound of Boards

257 Delight is as the flight— Or in the Ratio of it, As the Schools would say— The Rainbow’s way—

604 Unto my Books—so good to turn— Far ends of tired Days— It half endears the Abstinence— And Pain—is missed—in Praise—

The grave my little cottage is, Where 'Keeping house’ for thee I make my parlor orderly And lay the marble tea. For two divided, briefly,

878 The Sun is gay or stark According to our Deed. If Merry, He is merrier— If eager for the Dead

Death leaves Us homesick, who beh… Except that it is gone Are ignorant of its Concern As if it were not born. Through all their former Places,…

Perhaps I asked too large— I take—no less than skies— For Earths, grow thick as Berries, in my native town— My Basked holds—just—Firmaments—