The Beggar at the Door for Fame Were easily supplied But Bread is that Diviner thing Disclosed to be denied

Air has no Residence, no Neighbor… No Ear, no Door, No Apprehension of Another Oh, Happy Air! Ethereal Guest at e’en an Outcast…

You said that I “was Great”'—one… Then “Great” it be’—if that pleas… Or Small’—or any size at all’— Nay’—I’m the size suit Thee’— Tall’—like the Stag’—would that?

814 One Day is there of the Series Termed Thanksgiving Day. Celebrated part at Table Part in Memory.

417 Is it dead—Find it— Out of sound—Out of sight— “Happy”? Which is wiser— You, or the Wind?

246 Forever at His side to walk— The smaller of the two! Brain of His Brain— Blood of His Blood—

604 Unto my Books—so good to turn— Far ends of tired Days— It half endears the Abstinence— And Pain—is missed—in Praise—

There’s a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons— That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes— Heavenly Hurt, it gives us—

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

If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can ever warm me, I know that is poetry. If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry....

12 The morns are meeker than they wer… The nuts are getting brown— The berry’s cheek is plumper— The Rose is out of town.

845 Be Mine the Doom— Sufficient Fame— To perish in Her Hand!

78 A poor—torn heart—a tattered heart… That sat it down to rest— Nor noticed that the Ebbing Day Flowed silver to the West—

XL THE thought beneath so slight a f… Is more distinctly seen,— As laces just reveal the surge, Or mists the Apennine.