Wild Nights! Wild Nights! Were I with thee, Wild Nights should be Our luxury! Futile the winds

763 He told a homely tale And spotted it with tears— Upon his infant face was set The Cicatrice of years—

550 I cross till I am weary A Mountain—in my mind— More Mountains—then a Sea— More Seas—And then

915 Faith—is the Pierless Bridge Supporting what We see Unto the Scene that We do not— Too slender for the eye

A narrow fellow in the grass Occasionally rides; You may have met him,—did you not, His notice sudden is. The grass divides as with a comb,

316 The Wind didn’t come from the Orc… Further than that— Nor stop to play with the Hay— Nor joggle a Hat—

506 He touched me, so I live to know That such a day, permitted so, I groped upon his breast— It was a boundless place to me

Our journey had advanced; Our feet were almost come To that odd fork in Being’s road, Eternity by term. Our pace took sudden awe,

Silence is all we dread. There’s Ransom in a Voice - But Silence is Infinity. Himself have not a face.

612 It would have starved a Gnat— To live so small as I— And yet I was a living Child— With Food’s necessity

LV MY country need not change her go… Her triple suit as sweet As when ’t was cut at Lexington, And first pronounced “a fit.”

A Wind that rose Though not a Leaf In any Forest stirred But with itself did cold engage Beyond the Realm of Bird -

947 Of Tolling Bell I ask the cause? “A Soul has gone to Heaven” I’m answered in a lonesome tone— Is Heaven then a Prison?

Dying at my music! Bubble! Bubble! Hold me till the Octave’s run! Quick! Burst the Windows! Ritardando!