736 Have any like Myself Investigating March, New Houses on the Hill descried— And possibly a Church—

I know a place where summer strive… With such a practised frost, She each year leads her daisies ba… Recording briefly, ‘Lost.’ But when the south wind stirs the…

962 Midsummer, was it, when They died… A full, and perfect time— The Summer closed upon itself In Consummated Bloom—

720 No Prisoner be— Where Liberty— Himself—abide with Thee—

413 I never felt at Home–Below– And in the Handsome Skies I shall not feel at Home–I know– I don’t like Paradise–

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—

947 Of Tolling Bell I ask the cause? “A Soul has gone to Heaven” I’m answered in a lonesome tone— Is Heaven then a Prison?

453 Love—thou art high— I cannot climb thee— But, were it Two— Who know but we—

785 They have a little Odor—that to m… Is metre—nay—’tis melody— And spiciest at fading—indicate— A Habit—of a Laureate—

646 I think to Live—may be a Bliss To those who dare to try— Beyond my limit to conceive— My lip—to testify—

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