672
The Future’—never spoke’—
Nor will He’—like the Dumb’—
Reveal by sign’—a syllable
Of His Profound To Come’—

193
I shall know why — when Time is o
And I have ceased to wonder why —
Christ will explain each separate
In the fair schoolroom of the sky

335
’Tis not that Dying hurts us so—
’Tis Living—hurts us more—
But Dying—is a different way—
A Kind behind the Door—

623
It was too late for Man—
But early, yet, for God—
Creation—impotent to help—
But Prayer—remained—Our Side—

Death leaves Us homesick, who beh
Except that it is gone
Are ignorant of its Concern
As if it were not born.
Through all their former Places,

760
Most she touched me by her mutenes
Most she won me by the way
She presented her small figure—
Plea itself—for Charity—

MY life closed twice before its c
It yet remains to see
If Immortality unveil
A third event to me,
So huge, so hopeless to conceive,

692
The Sun kept setting’—setting’—st
No Hue of Afternoon’—
Upon the Village I perceived
From House to House ’twas Noon’—

861
Split the Lark—and you’ll find th
Bulb after Bulb, in Silver rolled
Scantilly dealt to the Summer Mor
Saved for your Ear when Lutes be

82
Whose cheek is this?
What rosy face
Has lost a blush today?
I found her—"pleiad"—in the woods