330 The Juggler’s Hat her Country is… The Mountain Gorse—the Bee’s!

13 Sleep is supposed to be By souls of sanity The shutting of the eye. Sleep is the station grand

729 Alter! When the Hills do— Falter! When the Sun Question if His Glory Be the Perfect One—

104 Where I have lost, I softer tread… I sow sweet flower from garden bed… I pause above that vanished head And mourn.

184 A transport one cannot contain May yet a transport be— Though God forbid it lift the lid… Unto its Ecstasy!

227 Teach Him’—When He makes the nam… Such an one’—to say’— On his babbling’—Berry’—lips’— As should sound’—to me’—

1100 The last Night that She lived It was a Common Night Except the Dying—this to Us Made Nature different

575 “Heaven” has different Signs—to m… Sometimes, I think that Noon Is but a symbol of the Place— And when again, at Dawn,

757 The Mountains—grow unnoticed— Their Purple figures rise Without attempt—Exhaustion— Assistance—or Applause—

466 ’Tis little I—could care for Pear… Who own the ample sea— Or Brooches—when the Emperor— With Rubies—pelteth me—

661 Could I but ride indefinite As doth the Meadow Bee And visit only where I liked And No one visit me