226 Should you but fail at—Sea— In sight of me— Or doomed lie— Next Sun—to die—

I like to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step Around a pile of mountains,

355 ’Tis Opposites—entice— Deformed Men—ponder Grace— Bright fires—the Blanketless— The Lost—Day’s face—

958 We met as Sparks—Diverging Flint… Sent various—scattered ways— We parted as the Central Flint Were cloven with an Adze—

The show is not the show, But they that go. Menagerie to me My neighbor be. Fair play—

The dying need but little, dear,— A glass of water’s all, A flower’s unobtrusive face To punctuate the wall, A fan, perhaps, a friend’s regret,

Elysium is as far as to The very nearest Room If in that Room a Friend await Felicity or Doom— What fortitude the Soul contains

971 Robbed by Death—but that was easy… To the failing Eye I could hold the latest Glowing— Robbed by Liberty

107 ’Twas such a little—little boat That toddled down the bay! ’Twas such a gallant—gallant sea That beckoned it away!

448 This was a Poet—It is That Distills amazing sense From ordinary Meanings— And Attar so immense

491 While it is alive Until Death touches it While it and I lap one Air Dwell in one Blood