STEP lightly on this narrow spot… The broadest land that grows Is not so ample as the breast These emerald seams enclose. Step lofty; for this name is told

The Beggar at the Door for Fame Were easily supplied But Bread is that Diviner thing Disclosed to be denied

556 The Brain, within its Groove Runs evenly—and true— But let a Splinter swerve— ’Twere easier for You—

994 Partake as doth the Bee, Abstemiously. The Rose is an Estate— In Sicily.

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

No brigadier throughout the year So civic as the jay. A neighbor and a warrior too, With shrill felicity Pursuing winds that censure us

176 I’m the little “Heart’s Ease”! I don’t care for pouting skies! If the Butterfly delay Can I, therefore, stay away?

867 Escaping backward to perceive The Sea upon our place— Escaping forward, to confront His glittering Embrace—

992 The Dust behind I strove to join Unto the Disk before— But Sequence ravelled out of Soun… Like Balls upon a Floor—

934 That is solemn we have ended Be it but a Play Or a Glee among the Garret Or a Holiday

A fuzzy fellow, without feet, Yet doth exceeding run! Of velvet, is his Countenance, And his Complexion, dun! Sometime, he dwelleth in the grass…