517 He parts Himself—like Leaves— And then—He closes up— Then stands upon the Bonnet Of Any Buttercup—

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

896 Of Silken Speech and Specious Sh… A Traitor is the Bee His service to the newest Grace Present continually

LXII A DROP fell on the apple tree Another on the roof; A half a dozen kissed the eaves, And made the gables laugh.

553 One Crucifixion is recorded—only— How many be Is not affirmed of Mathematics— Or History—

539 The Province of the Saved Should be the Art—To save— Through Skill obtained in Themsel… The Science of the Grave

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,

Going to him! Happy letter! Tell… Tell him the page I didn’t write; Tell him I only said the syntax, And left the verb and the pronoun… Tell him just how the fingers hurr…

XLIV THE show is not the show, But they that go. Menagerie to me My neighbor be.

Each life converges to some centre Expressed or still; Exists in every human nature A goal, Admitted scarcely to itself, it ma…

523 Sweet—You forgot—but I remembered Every time—for Two— So that the Sum be never hindered Through Decay of You—

364 The Morning after Woe— ’Tis frequently the Way— Surpasses all that rose before— For utter Jubilee—

220 Could I—then—shut the door— Lest my beseeching face—at last— Rejected—be—of Her?