Silence is all we dread. There’s Ransom in a Voice - But Silence is Infinity. Himself have not a face.

897 How fortunate the Grave— All Prizes to obtain— Successful certain, if at last, First Suitor not in vain.

501 This World is not Conclusion. A Species stands beyond— Invisible, as Music— But positive, as Sound—

The Grass so little has to do— A Sphere of simple Green— With only Butterflies to brood And Bees to entertain— And stir all day to pretty Tunes

224 I've nothing else—to bring, You k… So I keep bringing These— Just as the Night keeps fetching… To our familiar eyes—

XLIX A POOR torn heart, a tattered he… That sat it down to rest, Nor noticed that the ebbing day Flowed silver to the west,

373 I’m saying every day “If I should be a Queen, tomorrow… I’d do this way— And so I deck, a little,

717 The Beggar Lad—dies early— It’s Somewhat in the Cold— And Somewhat in the Trudging feet… And haply, in the World—

Growth of Man—like Growth of Nat… Gravitates within— Atmosphere, and Sun endorse it— Bit it stir—alone— Each—its difficult Ideal

My life had stood—a Loaded Gun— In Corners—till a Day The Owner passed—identified— And carried Me away— And now We roam in Sovereign Woo…

586 We talked as Girls do— Fond, and late— We speculated fair, on every subje… Of ours, none affair—

XXII I had no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, And life was not so ample I Could finish enmity.