442 God made a little Gentian— It tried—to be a Rose— And failed—and all the Summer lau… But just before the Snows

Success is counted sweetest By those who ne’er succeed. To comprehend a nectar Requires sorest need. Not one of all the purple Host

312 Her—last Poems— Poets ended— Silver—perished—with her Tongue— Not on Record—bubbled Other,

845 Be Mine the Doom— Sufficient Fame— To perish in Her Hand!

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

41 I robbed the Woods— The trusting Woods. The unsuspecting Trees Brought out their Burs and mosses

544 The Martyr Poets—did not tell— But wrought their Pang in syllabl… That when their mortal name be num… Their mortal fate—encourage Some—

569 I reckon—when I count at all— First—Poets—Then the Sun— Then Summer—Then the Heaven of G… And then—the List is done—

439 Undue Significance a starving man… To Food— Far off—He sighs—and therefore—Ho… And therefore—Good—

401 What Soft—Cherubic Creatures— These Gentlewomen are— One would as soon assault a Plush… Or violate a Star—

I noticed People disappeared When but a little child - Supposed they visited remote Or settled Regions wild - But did because they died

A Wind that rose Though not a Leaf In any Forest stirred But with itself did cold engage Beyond the Realm of Bird -