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

The cricket sang, And set the sun, And workmen finished, one by one, Their seam the day upon. The low grass loaded with the dew,

Are Friends Delight or Pain? Could Bounty but remain Riches were good - But if they only stay Ampler to fly away

Who were “the Father and the Son” We pondered when a child, And what had they to do with us And when portentous told With inference appalling

A Route of Evanescence With a revolving Wheel— A Resonance of Emerald— A Rush of Cochineal— And every Blossom on the Bush

Said Death to Passion ‘Give of thine an Acre unto me.’ Said Passion, through contracting… ‘A Thousand Times Thee Nay.’ Bore Death from Passion

207 Tho’ I get home how late—how late… So I get home—’twill compensate— Better will be the Ecstasy That they have done expecting me—

My cocoon tightens, colors tease, I’m feeling for the air; A dim capacity for wings Degrades the dress I wear. A power of butterfly must be

46 I keep my pledge. I was not called— Death did not notice me. I bring my Rose.

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

264 A Weight with Needles on the poun… To push, and pierce, besides— That if the Flesh resist the Heft… The puncture—coolly tries—