801 I play at Riches—to appease The Clamoring for Gold— It kept me from a Thief, I think, For often, overbold

827 The Only News I know Is Bulletins all Day From Immortality. The Only Shows I see—

244 It is easy to work when the soul i… But when the soul is in pain— The hearing him put his playthings… Makes work difficult—then—

957 As One does Sickness over In convalescent Mind, His scrutiny of Chances By blessed Health obscured—

779 The Service without Hope— Is tenderest, I think— Because ’tis unsustained By stint—Rewarded Work—

977 Besides this May We know There is Another— How fair

855 To own the Art within the Soul The Soul to entertain With Silence as a Company And Festival maintain

468 The Manner of its Death When Certain it must die— ’Tis deemed a privilege to choose— ’Twas Major Andre’s Way—

The earth has many keys, Where melody is not Is the unknown peninsula. Beauty is nature’s fact. But witness for her land,

714 Rest at Night The Sun from shining, Nature—and some Men— Rest at Noon—some Men—

289 I know some lonely Houses off the… A Robber’d like the look of— Wooden barred, And Windows hanging low,

Remorse– is Memory– awake - Her Parties all astir - A Presence of Departed Acts - At window– and at Door – Its Past - set down before the S…

929 How far is it to Heaven? As far as Death this way— Of River or of Ridge beyond Was no discovery.