Said Death to Passion ‘Give of thine an Acre unto me.’ Said Passion, through contracting… ‘A Thousand Times Thee Nay.’ Bore Death from Passion

LX A SHADY friend for torrid days Is easier to find Than one of higher temperature For frigid hour of mind.

163 Tho’ my destiny be Fustian— Hers be damask fine— Tho’ she wear a silver apron— I, a less divine—

661 Could I but ride indefinite As doth the Meadow Bee And visit only where I liked And No one visit me

Exhilaration is the Breeze That lifts us from the Ground And leaves us in another place Whose statement is not found - Returns us not, but after time

558 But little Carmine hath her face— Of Emerald scant—her Gown— Her Beauty—is the love she doth— Itself—exhibit—Mine&md ash;

463 I live with Him — I see His face… I go no more away For Visitor — or Sundown — Death's single privacy

Me! Come! My dazzled face In such a shining place! Me! Hear! My foreign ear The sounds of welcome near! The saints shall meet

412 I read my sentence—steadily— Reviewed it with my eyes, To see that I made no mistake In its extremest clause—

625 ’Twas a long Parting—but the time For Interview—had Come— Before the Judgment Seat of God— The last—and second time

191 The Skies can’t keep their secret… They tell it to the Hills— The Hills just tell the Orchards— And they—the Daffodils!

We like March, his shoes are purp… He is new and high; Makes he mud for dog and peddler, Makes he forest dry; Knows the adder’s tongue his comin…