840 I cannot buy it—’tis not sold— There is no other in the World— Mine was the only one I was so happy I forgot

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

651 So much Summer Me for showing Illegitimate— Would a Smile’s minute bestowing

931 Noon—is the Hinge of Day— Evening—the Tissue Door— Morning—the East compelling the s… Till all the World is ajar—

Of Brussels—it was not— Of Kidderminster? Nay— The Winds did buy it of the Woods… They—sold it unto me It was a gentle price—

281 ’Tis so appalling—it exhilarates— So over Horror, it half Captivate… The Soul stares after it, secure— A Sepulchre, fears frost, no more…

I had been hungry all the years– My noon had come, to dine– I, trembling, drew the table near And touched the curious wine. ‘T was this on tables I had seen

910 Experience is the Angled Road Preferred against the Mind By—Paradox—the Mind itself— Presuming it to lead

529 I’m sorry for the Dead—Today— It’s such congenial times Old Neighbors have at fences— It’s time o’ year for Hay.

412 I read my sentence—steadily— Reviewed it with my eyes, To see that I made no mistake In its extremest clause—