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

601 A still—Volcano—Life— That flickered in the night— When it was dark enough to do Without erasing sight—

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

908 ’Tis Sunrise—Little Maid—Hast T… No Station in the Day? ’Twas not thy wont, to hinder so— Retrieve thine industry—

176 I’m the little “Heart’s Ease”! I don’t care for pouting skies! If the Butterfly delay Can I, therefore, stay away?

414 ’Twas like a Maelstrom, with a no… That nearer, every Day, Kept narrowing its boiling Wheel Until the Agony

522 Had I presumed to hope— The loss had been to Me A Value—for the Greatness’ Sake— As Giants—gone away—

413 I never felt at Home–Below– And in the Handsome Skies I shall not feel at Home–I know– I don’t like Paradise–

The going from a world we know To one a wonder still Is like the child’s adversity Whose vista is a hill, Behind the hill is sorcery

Our lives are Swiss— So still—so Cool— Till some odd afternoon The Alps neglect their Curtains And we look farther on!

957 As One does Sickness over In convalescent Mind, His scrutiny of Chances By blessed Health obscured—