51 I often passed the village When going home from school— And wondered what they did there— And why it was so still—

656 The name—of it—is “Autumn”— The hue—of it—is Blood— An Artery—upon the Hill— A Vein—along the Road—

We grow accustomed to the Dark - When light is put away - As when the Neighbor holds the La… To witness her Goodbye - A Moment - We uncertain step

149 She went as quiet as the Dew From an Accustomed flower. Not like the Dew, did she return At the Accustomed hour!

260 Read—Sweet—how others—strove— Till we—are stouter— What they—renounced— Till we—are less afraid—

Whole Gulfs– of Red, and Fleets… And Crews– of solid Blood – Did place upon the West– Tonight… As ’twere specific Ground - And They– appointed Creatures –

A slash of Blue— A sweep of Gray— Some scarlet patches on the way, Compose an Evening Sky— A little purple—slipped between—

230 We—Bee and I—live by the quaffing… ’Tisn’t all Hock—with us— Life has its Ale— But it’s many a lay of the Dim Bu…

XLIX WE outgrow love like other things And put it in the drawer, Till it an antique fashion shows Like costumes grandsires wore.