725 Where Thou art—that—is Home— Cashmere—or Calvary—the same— Degree—or Shame— I scarce esteem Location’s Name—

UP with the sun, the breeze arose… Across the talking corn she goes, And smooth she rustles far and wid… Through all the voiceful countrysi… Through all the land her tale she…

639 My Portion is Defeat—today— A paler luck than Victory— Less Paeans—fewer Bells— The Drums don’t follow Me—with tu…

122 A something in a summer’s Day As slow her flambeaux burn away Which solemnizes me. A something in a summer’s noon—

Judgment is justest When the Judged, His action laid away, Divested is of every Disk But his sincerity.

There’s a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons— That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes— Heavenly Hurt, it gives us—

I had no time to hate, because The grave would hinder me, And life was not so ample I Could finish enmity. Nor had I time to love, but since

675 Essential Oilsare wrung The Attar from the Rose Be not expressed by Sunsalone It is the gift of Screws

733 The Spirit is the Conscious Ear. We actually Hear When We inspect—that’s audible— That is admitted—Here—

182 If I shouldn’t be alive When the Robins come, Give the one in Red Cravat, A Memorial crumb.

984 ’Tis Anguish grander than Delight ’Tis Resurrection Pain— The meeting Bands of smitten Face We questioned to, again.

176 I’m the little “Heart’s Ease”! I don’t care for pouting skies! If the Butterfly delay Can I, therefore, stay away?