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—

940 On that dear Frame the Years had… Yet precious as the House In which We first experienced Lig… The Witnessing, to Us—

603 He found my Being—set it up— Adjusted it to place— Then carved his name—upon it— And bade it to the East

294 The Doomed—regard the Sunrise With different Delight— Because—when next it burns abroad They doubt to witness it—

375 The Angle of a Landscape— That every time I wake— Between my Curtain and the Wall Upon an ample Crack—

657 I dwell in Possibility— A fairer House than Prose— More numerous of Windows— Superior—for Doors—

244 It is easy to work when the soul i… But when the soul is in pain— The hearing him put his playthings… Makes work difficult—then—

1000 The Fingers of the Light Tapped soft upon the Town With “I am great and cannot wait So therefore let me in.”

697 I could bring You Jewels—had I a… But You have enough—of those— I could bring You Odors from St.… Colors—from Vera Cruz—

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

403 The Winters are so short— I’m hardly justified In sending all the Birds away— And moving into Pod—