612 It would have starved a Gnat— To live so small as I— And yet I was a living Child— With Food’s necessity

We don’t cry—Tim and I, We are far too grand— But we bolt the door tight To prevent a friend— Then we hide our brave face

110 Artists wrestled here! Lo, a tint Cashmere! Lo, a Rose! Student of the Year!

402 I pay—in Satin Cash— You did not state—your price— A Petal, for a Paragraph It near as I can guess—

138 Pigmy seraphs—gone astray— Velvet people from Vevay— Balles from some lost summer day— Bees exclusive Coterie—

I like to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step Around a pile of mountains,

Whether they have forgotten Or are forgetting now Or never remembered - Safer not to know - Miseries of conjecture

915 Faith—is the Pierless Bridge Supporting what We see Unto the Scene that We do not— Too slender for the eye

MY cocoon tightens, colors tease, I 'm feeling for the air; A dim capacity for wings Degrades the dress I wear. A power of butterfly must be

733 The Spirit is the Conscious Ear. We actually Hear When We inspect—that’s audible— That is admitted—Here—

101 Will there really be a “Morning”? Is there such a thing as “Day”? Could I see it from the mountains If I were as tall as they?

666 Ah, Teneriffe! Retreating Mountain! Purples of Ages—pause for you— Sunset—reviews her Sapphire Regim…