461 A Wife—at daybreak I shall be— Sunrise—Hast thou a Flag for me? At Midnight, I am but a Maid, How short it takes to make a Brid…

856 There is a finished feeling Experienced at Graves— A leisure of the Future— A Wilderness of Size.

88 As by the dead we love to sit, Become so wondrous dear— As for the lost we grapple Tho’ all the rest are here—

Like trains of cars on tracks of p… I hear the level bee: A jar across the flowers goes, Their velvet masonry Withstands until the sweet assault

His voice decrepit was with Joy - Her words did totter so How old the News of Love must be To make Lips elderly That purled a moment since with G…

614 In falling Timbers buried— There breathed a Man— Outside—the spades—were plying— The Lungs—within—

294 The Doomed—regard the Sunrise With different Delight— Because—when next it burns abroad They doubt to witness it—

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

649 Her Sweet turn to leave the Homes… Came the Darker Way— Carriages—Be Sure—and Guests—too… But for Holiday

Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself,

677 To be alive—is Power— Existence—in itself— Without a further function— Omnipotence—Enough—