733 The Spirit is the Conscious Ear. We actually Hear When We inspect—that’s audible— That is admitted—Here—

411 The Color of the Grave is Green— The Outer Grave—I mean— You would not know it from the Fi… Except it own a Stone—

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

The wind begun to rock the grass With threatening tunes and low,— He flung a menace at the earth, A menace at the sky. The leaves unhooked themselves fro…

271 A solemn thing—it was—I said— A woman—white—to be— And wear—if God should count me f… Her blameless mystery—

Warm in her Hand these accents li… While faithful and afar The Grace so awkward for her sake Its fond subjection wear -

593 I think I was enchanted When first a sombre Girl— I read that Foreign Lady— The Dark—felt beautiful—

929 How far is it to Heaven? As far as Death this way— Of River or of Ridge beyond Was no discovery.

721 Behind Me’—dips Eternity’— Before Me’—Immortality’— Myself’—the Term between’— Death but the Drift of Eastern G…

595 Like Mighty Foot Lights—burned t… At Bases of the Trees— The far Theatricals of Day Exhibiting—to These—

523 Sweet—You forgot—but I remembered Every time—for Two— So that the Sum be never hindered Through Decay of You—

446 I showed her Heights she never sa… “Would’st Climb,” I said? She said—"Not so"— “With me—” I said—With me?