912 Peace is a fiction of our Faith— The Bells a Winter Night Bearing the Neighbor out of Sound That never did alight.

Safe in their Alabaster Chambers— Untouched by Morning— and untouched by noon— Sleep the meek members of the Res… Rafter of Satin and Roof of Ston…

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?

99 New feet within my garden go— New fingers stir the sod— A Troubadour upon the Elm Betrays the solitude.

756 One Blessing had I than the rest So larger to my Eyes That I stopped gauging—satisfied— For this enchanted size—

763 He told a homely tale And spotted it with tears— Upon his infant face was set The Cicatrice of years—

995 This was in the White of the Year… That—was in the Green— Drifts were as difficult then to t… As Daisies now to be seen—

695 As if the Sea should part And show a further Sea— And that—a further—and the Three But a presumption be—

’Twas comfort in her Dying Room To hear the living Clock— A short relief to have the wind Walk boldly up and knock— Diversion from the Dying Theme

542 I had no Cause to be awake— My Best—was gone to sleep— And Morn a new politeness took— And failed to wake them up—

897 How fortunate the Grave— All Prizes to obtain— Successful certain, if at last, First Suitor not in vain.