Love—is that later Thing than Dea
More previous—than Life—
Confirms it at its entrance—And
Usurps it—of itself—
Tastes Death—the first—to hand th

141
Some, too fragile for winter winds
The thoughtful grave encloses—
Tenderly tucking them in from fros
Before their feet are cold.

174
At last, to be identified!
At last, the lamps upon thy side
The rest of Life to see!
Past Midnight! Past the Morning

Tell all the truth but tell it sla
Success in circuit lies,
Too bright for our infirm delight
The truth’s superb surprise;
As lightning to the children eased

503
Better’—than Music! For I’—who h
I was used’—to the Birds’—before’
This’—was different’—'Twas Transl
Of all tunes I knew’—and more’—

818
I could not drink it, Sweet,
Till You had tasted first,
Though cooler than the Water was
The Thoughtfullness of Thirst.

The only ghost I ever saw
Was dressed in mechlin,—so;
He wore no sandal on his foot,
And stepped like flakes of snow.
His gait was soundless, like the b

660
’Tis good—the looking back on Gri
To re-endure a Day—
We thought the Mighty Funeral—
Of All Conceived Joy—

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

537
Me prove it now’—Whoever doubt
Me stop to prove it’—now’—
Make haste’—the Scruple! Death be
For Opportunity’—