111 The Bee is not afraid of me. I know the Butterfly. The pretty people in the Woods Receive me cordially—

767 To offer brave assistance To Lives that stand alone— When One has failed to stop them— Is Human—but Divine

695 As if the Sea should part And show a further Sea— And that—a further—and the Three But a presumption be—

941 The Lady feeds Her little Bird At rarer intervals— The little Bird would not dissent But meekly recognize

“I want”—it pleaded—All its life— I want—was chief it said When Skill entreated it—the last— And when so newly dead— I could not deem it late—to hear

XLV DELIGHT becomes pictorial When viewed through pain,— More fair, because impossible That any gain.

305 The difference between Despair And Fear—is like the One Between the instant of a Wreck And when the Wreck has been—

I know a place where summer strive… With such a practised frost, She each year leads her daisies ba… Recording briefly, ‘Lost.’ But when the south wind stirs the…

685 Not “Revelation”—'tis—that waits, But our unfurnished eyes—

XLVII IS Heaven a physician? They say that He can heal; But medicine posthumous Is unavailable.