When Memory is full Put on the perfect Lid - This Morning’s finest syllable Presumptuous Evening said -

432 Do People moulder equally, They bury, in the Grave? I do believe a Species As positively live

774 It is a lonesome Glee— Yet sanctifies the Mind— With fair association— Afar upon the Wind

I had no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, And life was not so ample I Could finish enmity. Nor had I time to love, but since

685 Not “Revelation”—'tis—that waits, But our unfurnished eyes—

We like March, his shoes are purp… He is new and high; Makes he mud for dog and peddler, Makes he forest dry; Knows the adder’s tongue his comin…

‘And with what body do they come?’… Then they do come - Rejoice! What Door– What Hour– Run– ru… Illuminate the House! ‘Body!’ Then real– a Face and E…

782 There is an arid Pleasure— As different from Joy— As Frost is different from Dew— Like element—are they—

Dying at my music! Bubble! Bubble! Hold me till the Octave’s run! Quick! Burst the Windows! Ritardando!

I meant to find her when I came; Death had the same design; But the success was his, it seems, And the discomfit mine. I meant to tell her how I longed

430 It would never be Common—more—I s… Difference—had begun— Many a bitterness—had been— But that old sort—was done—