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

A Coffin’—is a small Domain, Yet able to contain A Citizen of Paradise In it diminished Plane. A Grave’—is a restricted Breadth’…

690 Victory comes late— And is held low to freezing lips— Too rapt with frost To take it—

354 From Cocoon forth a Butterfly As Lady from her Door Emerged—a Summer Afternoon— Repairing Everywhere—

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

856 There is a finished feeling Experienced at Graves— A leisure of the Future— A Wilderness of Size.

She sweeps with many-colored broom… And leaves the shreds behind; Oh, housewife in the evening west, Come back, and dust the pond! You dropped a purple ravelling in,

332 There are two Ripenings—one—of si… Whose forces Spheric wind Until the Velvet product Drop spicy to the ground—

596 When I was small, a Woman died— Today—her Only Boy Went up from the Potomac— His face all Victory

736 Have any like Myself Investigating March, New Houses on the Hill descried— And possibly a Church—

551 There is a Shame of Nobleness— Confronting Sudden Pelf— A finer Shame of Ecstasy— Convicted of Itself—

501 This World is not Conclusion. A Species stands beyond— Invisible, as Music— But positive, as Sound—