88 As by the dead we love to sit, Become so wondrous dear— As for the lost we grapple Tho’ all the rest are here—

779 The Service without Hope— Is tenderest, I think— Because ’tis unsustained By stint—Rewarded Work—

The thought beneath so slight a fi… Is more distincly seen,— As laces just reveal the surge, Or mists the Apennine.

427 I’ll clutch—and clutch— Next—One—Might be the golden touc… Could take it— Diamonds—Wait—

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

Dare you see a Soul at the White… Then crouch within the door— Red—is the Fire’s common tint— But when the vivid Ore Has vanquished Flame’s conditions…

982 No Other can reduce Our mortal Consequence Like the remembering it be nought A Period from hence

600 It troubled me as once I was— For I was once a Child— Concluding how an Atom—fell— And yet the Heavens—held—

LXI A LITTLE road not made of man, Enabled of the eye, Accessible to thill of bee, Or cart of butterfly.

It stole along so stealthy Suspicion it was done Was dim as to the wealthy Beginning not to own -

493 The World—stands—solemner—to me— Since I was wed—to Him— A modesty befits the soul That bears another’s—name—

142 Whose are the little beds, I aske… Which in the valleys lie? Some shook their heads, and others… And no one made reply.

237 I think just how my shape will ris… When I shall be “forgiven”— Till Hair—and Eyes—and timid Hea… Are out of sight—in Heaven—