888 When I have seen the Sun emerge From His amazing House— And leave a Day at every Door A Deed, in every place—

262 The lonesome for they know not Wh… The Eastern Exiles—be— Who strayed beyond the Amber line Some madder Holiday—

1510 How happy is the little Stone That rambles in the Road alone, And doesn’t care about Careers And Exigencies never fears—

792 Through the strait pass of sufferi… The Martyrs—even—trod. Their feet—upon Temptations— Their faces—upon God—

Pink, small, and punctual, Aromatic, low, Covert in April, Candid in May, Dear to the moss,

39 It did not surprise me— So I said—or thought— She will stir her pinions And the nest forgot,

644 You left me—Sire—two Legacies— A Legacy of Love A Heavenly Father would suffice Had He the offer of—

How fits his Umber Coat The Tailor of the Nut? Combined without a seam Like Raiment of a Dream - Who spun the Auburn Cloth?

XXXVII LOVE is anterior to life, Posterior to death, Initial of creation, and The exponent of breath.

Between My Country—and the Other… There is a Sea— But Flowers—negotiate between us— As Ministry.