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,

846 Twice had Summer her fair Verdure Proffered to the Plain— Twice a Winter’s silver Fracture On the Rivers been—

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

The sky is low, the clouds are mea… A travelling flake of snow Across a barn or through a rut Debates if it will go. A narrow wind complains all day

Too cold is this To warm with Sun - Too stiff to bended be, To joint this Agate were a work - Outstaring Masonry -

109 By a flower—By a letter— By a nimble love— If I weld the Rivet faster— Final fast—above—

469 The Red—Blaze—is the Morning— The Violet—is Noon— The Yellow—Day—is falling— And after that—is none—

535 She’s happy, with a new Content— That feels to her—like Sacrament— She’s busy—with an altered Care— As just apprenticed to the Air—

470 I am alive—I guess— The Branches on my Hand Are full of Morning Glory— And at my finger’s end—

170 Portraits are to daily faces As an Evening West, To a fine, pedantic sunshine— In a satin Vest!

44 If she had been the Mistletoe And I had been the Rose— How gay upon your table My velvet life to close—