63 If pain for peace prepares Lo, what “Augustan” years Our feet await! If springs from winter rise,

There comes a warning like a spy A shorter breath of Day A stealing that is not a stealth And Summers are away

264 A Weight with Needles on the poun… To push, and pierce, besides— That if the Flesh resist the Heft… The puncture—coolly tries—

660 ’Tis good—the looking back on Gri… To re-endure a Day— We thought the Mighty Funeral— Of All Conceived Joy—

I taste a liquor never brewed, From tankards scooped in pearl; Not all the vats upon the Rhine Yield such an alcohol! Inebriate of air am I,

571 Must be a Woe— A loss or so— To bend the eye Best Beauty’s way—

746 Never for Society He shall seek in vain— Who His own acquaintance Cultivate—Of Men

GOOD night! which put the candle… A jealous zephyr, not a doubt. Ah! friend, you little knew How long at that celestial wick The angels labored diligent;

472 Except the Heaven had come so nea… So seemed to choose My Door— The Distance would not haunt me s… I had not hoped—before—

Delight becomes pictorial When viewed through pain,— More fair, because impossible That any gain. The mountaln at a given distance

517 He parts Himself’—like Leaves’— And then’—He closes up’— Then stands upon the Bonnet Of Any Buttercup’—

140 An altered look about the hills— A Tyrian light the village fills— A wider sunrise in the morn— A deeper twilight on the lawn—

576 I prayed, at first, a little Girl… Because they told me to— But stopped, when qualified to gue… How prayer would feel—to me—

A clock stopped—not the mantel’s Geneva’s farthest skill Can’t put the puppet bowing That just now dangled still. An awe came on the trinket!