52
Whether my bark went down at sea—
Whether she met with gales—
Whether to isles enchanted
She bent her docile sails—

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

623
It was too late for Man—
But early, yet, for God—
Creation—impotent to help—
But Prayer—remained—Our Side—

421
A Charm invests a face
Imperfectly beheld—
The Lady dare not lift her Veil
For fear it be dispelled—

39
It did not surprise me—
So I said—or thought—
She will stir her pinions
And the nest forgot,

869
Because the Bee may blameless hum
For Thee a Bee do I become
List even unto Me.
Because the Flowers unafraid

641
Size circumscribes’—it has no room
For petty furniture’—
The Giant tolerates no Gnat
For Ease of Gianture’—

213
Did the Harebell loose her girdle
To the lover Bee
Would the Bee the Harebell hallow
Much as formerly?

15
The Guest is gold and crimson—
An Opal guest and gray—
Of Ermine is his doublet—
His Capuchin gay—

A doubt if it be Us
Assists the staggering Mind
In an extremer Anguish
Until it footing find.
An Unreality is lent,