123 Many cross the Rhine In this cup of mine. Sip old Frankfort air From my brown Cigar.

985 The Missing All’—prevented Me From missing minor Things. If nothing larger than a World’s Departure from a Hinge’—

888 When I have seen the Sun emerge From His amazing House— And leave a Day at every Door A Deed, in every place—

448 This was a Poet—It is That Distills amazing sense From ordinary Meanings— And Attar so immense

830 To this World she returned. But with a tinge of that— A Compound manner, As a Sod

Pain—has an Element of Blank— It cannot recollect When it begun—or if there were A time when it was not— It has no Future—but itself—

964 “Unto Me?” I do not know you— Where may be your House? “I am Jesus—Late of Judea— Now—of Paradise”—

669 No Romance sold unto Could so enthrall a Man As the perusal of His Individual One—

I never saw a moor; I never saw the sea, Yet know I how the heather looks And what a billow be. I never spoke with God,

How firm Eternity must look To crumbling men like me The only Adamant Estate In all Identity - How mighty to the insecure

271 A solemn thing—it was—I said— A woman—white—to be— And wear—if God should count me f… Her blameless mystery—

LVII EXCEPT the heaven had come so n… So seemed to choose my door, The distance would not haunt me so… I had not hoped before.