635
I think the longest Hour of all
Is when the Cars have come—
And we are waiting for the Coach—
It seems as though the Time

135
Water, is taught by thirst.
Land—by the Oceans passed.
Transport—by throe—
Peace—by its battles told—

886
These tested Our Horizon—
Then disappeared
As Birds before achieving
A Latitude.

864
The Robin for the Crumb
Returns no syllable
But long records the Lady’s name
In Silver Chronicle.

By those who ne’er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.
Not one of all the purple host
Who took the flag to-day

199
I’m “wife”—I’ve finished that—
That other state—
I’m Czar—I’m “Woman” now—
It’s safer so—

There’s a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons—
That oppresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes—
Heavenly Hurt, it gives us—

God gave a loaf to every bird,
But just a crumb to me;
I dare not eat it, though I starv
My poignant luxury
To own it, touch it, prove the fea

157
Musicians wrestle everywhere—
All day—among the crowded air
I hear the silver strife—
And—walking—long before the morn—

BELSHAZZAR had a letter,—
He never had but one;
Belshazzar’s correspondent
Concluded and begun
In that immortal copy