’Twas Crisis—All the length had p… That dull—benumbing time There is in Fever or Event— And now the Chance had come— The instant holding in its claw

MINE enemy is growing old, I have at last revenge. The palate of the hate departs; If any would avenge, Let him be quick, the viand flits,

Oh Shadow on the Grass, Art thou a Step or not? Go make thee fair my Candidate My nominated Heart - Oh Shadow on the Grass

109 By a flower—By a letter— By a nimble love— If I weld the Rivet faster— Final fast—above—

A shady friend for torrid days Is easier to find Than one of higher temperature For frigid hour of mind. The vane a little to the east

Those fair—fictitious People— The Women—plucked away From our familiar Lifetime— The Men of Ivory— Those Boys and Girls, in Canvas—

550 I cross till I am weary A Mountain—in my mind— More Mountains—then a Sea— More Seas—And then

897 How fortunate the Grave— All Prizes to obtain— Successful certain, if at last, First Suitor not in vain.

182 If I shouldn’t be alive When the Robins come, Give the one in Red Cravat, A Memorial crumb.

58 Delayed till she had ceased to kno… Delayed till in its vest of snow Her loving bosom lay— An hour behind the fleeting breath…

687 I’ll send the feather from my Hat… Who knows—but at the sight of that My Sovereign will relent? As trinket—worn by faded Child—