972 Unfulfilled to Observation— Incomplete—to Eye— But to Faith—a Revolution In Locality—

414 ’Twas like a Maelstrom, with a no… That nearer, every Day, Kept narrowing its boiling Wheel Until the Agony

723 It tossed—and tossed— A little Brig I knew—o’ertook by… It spun—and spun— And groped delirious, for Morn—

514 Her smile was shaped like other sm… The Dimples ran along— And still it hurt you, as some Bi… Did hoist herself, to sing,

814 One Day is there of the Series Termed Thanksgiving Day. Celebrated part at Table Part in Memory.

My cocoon tightens, colors tease, I’m feeling for the air; A dim capacity for wings Degrades the dress I wear. A power of butterfly must be

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

714 Rest at Night The Sun from shining, Nature—and some Men— Rest at Noon—some Men—

530 You cannot put a Fire out— A Thing that can ignite Can go, itself, without a Fan— Upon the slowest Night—

GLEE! the great storm is over! Four have recovered the land; Forty gone down together Into the boiling sand. Ring, for the scant salvation!

525 I think the Hemlock likes to stan… Upon a Marge of Snow— It suits his own Austerity— And satisfies an awe