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

37 Before the ice is in the pools— Before the skaters go, Or any check at nightfall Is tarnished by the snow—

All men for Honor hardest work But are not known to earn - Paid after they have ceased to wor… In Infamy or Urn -

How lonesome the Wind must feel N… When people have put out the Ligh… And everything that has an Inn Closes the shutter and goes in— How pompous the Wind must feel No…

366 Although I put away his life— An Ornament too grand For Forehead low as mine, to wear… This might have been the Hand

403 The Winters are so short— I’m hardly justified In sending all the Birds away— And moving into Pod—

The day came slow, till five o’clo… Then sprang before the hills, Like hindered rubies, or the light… A sudden musket spills. The purple could not keep the east…

They shut me up in Prose— As when a little Girl They put me in the Closet— Because they liked me “still”— Still! Could themself have peeped…

184 A transport one cannot contain May yet a transport be— Though God forbid it lift the lid… Unto its Ecstasy!

You love the Lord—you cannot see— You write Him—every day— A little note—when you awake— And further in the Day. An Ample Letter—How you miss—

His voice decrepit was with Joy - Her words did totter so How old the News of Love must be To make Lips elderly That purled a moment since with G…