312
Her’—"last Poems"'—
Poets’—ended’—
Silver’—perished’—w ith her Tongu
Not on Record’—bubbled other,

Because I could not stop for Deat
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselv
And Immortality.
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,

He ate and drank the precious Wor
His Spirit grew robust -
He knew no more that he was poor,
Nor that his frame was Dust -
He danced along the dingy Days

A drop fell on the apple tree,
Another on the roof;
A half a dozen kissed the eaves,
And made the gables laugh.
A few went out to help the brook,

927
Absent Place—an April Day—
Daffodils a-blow
Homesick curiosity
To the Souls that snow—

425
Good Morning’—Midnight’—
I’m coming Home’—
Day’—got tired of Me’—
How could I’—of Him?

617
Don’t put up my Thread and Needle
I’ll begin to Sew
When the Birds begin to whistle—
Better Stitches—so—

195
For this’—accepted Breath’—
Through it’—compete with Death’—
The fellow cannot touch this Crow
By it’—my title take’—

I’m saying every day
“If I should be a Queen, tomorrow
I’d do this way —
And so I deck, a little,
If it be, I wake a Bourbon,

959
A loss of something ever felt I—
The first that I could recollect
Bereft I was—of what I knew not
Too young that any should suspect