Fame is a fickle food Upon a shifting plate Whose table once a Guest but not The second time is set.

842 Good to hide, and hear 'em hunt! Better, to be found, If one care to, that is, The Fox fits the Hound—

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

659 That first Day, when you praised… And said that I was strong— And could be mighty, if I liked— That Day—the Days among—

Much Madness is divinest Sense - To a discerning Eye - Much Sense– the starkest Madness… ’Tis the Majority In this, as All, prevail -

169 In Ebon Box, when years have flow… To reverently peer, Wiping away the velvet dust Summers have sprinkled there!

257 Delight is as the flight— Or in the Ratio of it, As the Schools would say— The Rainbow’s way—

539 The Province of the Saved Should be the Art—To save— Through Skill obtained in Themsel… The Science of the Grave

372 I know lives, I could miss Without a Misery— Others—whose instant’s wanting— Would be Eternity—

The Road was lit with Moon and st… The Trees were bright and still - Descried I - by the distant Ligh… A Traveller on a Hill - To magic Perpendiculars

631 Ourselves were wed one summer’—dea… Your Vision’—was in June’— And when Your little Lifetime fai… I wearied’—too’—of mine’—

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

55 By Chivalries as tiny, A Blossom, or a Book, The seeds of smiles are planted— Which blossom in the dark.