8 There is a word Which bears a sword Can pierce an armed man— It hurls its barbed syllables

Exhilaration is the Breeze That lifts us from the Ground And leaves us in another place Whose statement is not found - Returns us not, but after time

1034 His Bill an Auger is, His Head, a Cap and Frill. He laboreth at every Tree A Worm, His utmost Goal.

220 Could I—then—shut the door— Lest my beseeching face—at last— Rejected—be—of Her?

Lives he in any other world My faith cannot reply Before it was imperative ’Twas all distinct to me -

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

I started Early– Took my Dog – And visited the Sea - The Mermaids in the Basement Came out to look at me - And Frigates - in the Upper Floo…

A fuzzy fellow, without feet, Yet doth exceeding run! Of velvet, is his Countenance, And his Complexion, dun! Sometime, he dwelleth in the grass…

1540 As imperceptibly as Grief The Summer lapsed away— Too imperceptible at last To seem like Perfidy—

My life closed twice before its cl… It yet remains to see If Immortality unveil A third event to me So huge, so hopeless to conceive