622 To know just how He suffered—woul… To know if any Human eyes were ne… To whom He could entrust His wave… Until it settle broad—on Paradise…

467 We do not play on Graves— Because there isn’t Room— Besides—it isn’t even—it slants And People come—

STEP lightly on this narrow spot… The broadest land that grows Is not so ample as the breast These emerald seams enclose. Step lofty; for this name is told

698 Life—is what we make of it— Death—we do not know— Christ’s acquaintance with Him Justify Him—though—

1545 The Bible is an antique Volume— Written by faded men At the suggestion of Holy Spectre… Subjects—Bethlehem&mdash ;

86 South Winds jostle them— Bumblebees come— Hover—hesitate— Dri nk, and are gone—

Publication—is the Auction Of the Mind of Man— Poverty—be justifying For so foul a thing Possibly—but We—would rather

The Sun kept setting—setting—stil… No Hue of Afternoon— Upon the Village I perceived From House to House ’twas Noon— The Dusk kept dropping—dropping—s…