XXV BELSHAZZAR had a letter,— He never had but one; Belshazzar’s correspondent Concluded and begun

The inundation of the Spring Enlarges every soul - It sweeps the tenement away But leaves the Water whole - In which the soul at first estrang…

Dying at my music! Bubble! Bubble! Hold me till the Octave’s run! Quick! Burst the Windows! Ritardando!

148 All overgrown by cunning moss, All interspersed with weed, The little cage of “Currer Bell” In quiet “Haworth” laid.

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

781 To wait an Hour—is long— If Love be just beyond— To wait Eternity—is short— If Love reward the end—

443 I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl— Life’s little duties do—precisely— As the very least Were infinite—to me—

976 Death is a Dialogue between The Spirit and the Dust. “Dissolve” says Death—The Spirit… I have another Trust”—

83 Heart, not so heavy as mine Wending late home— As it passed my window Whistled itself a tune—

521 Endow the Living—with the Tears— You squander on the Dead, And They were Men and Women—now, Around Your Fireside—

23 I had a guinea golden— I lost it in the sand— And tho’ the sum was simple And pounds were in the land—