835 Nature and God—I neither knew Yet Both so well knew me They startled, like Executors Of My identity.

588 I cried at Pity—not at Pain— I heard a Woman say “Poor Child”—and something in her… Convicted me—of me—

XVII SHE rose to his requirement, drop… The playthings of her life To take the honorable work Of woman and of wife.

931 Noon—is the Hinge of Day— Evening—the Tissue Door— Morning—the East compelling the s… Till all the World is ajar—

The Grass so little has to do— A Sphere of simple Green— With only Butterflies to brood And Bees to entertain— And stir all day to pretty Tunes

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

437 Prayer is the little implement Through which Men reach Where Presence—is denied them. They fling their Speech

208 The Rose did caper on her cheek— Her Bodice rose and fell— Her pretty speech—like drunken men… Did stagger pitiful—

480 “Why do I love” You, Sir? Because— The Wind does not require the Gra… To answer—Wherefore when He pass

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

933 Two Travellers perishing in Snow The Forests as they froze Together heard them strengthening Each other with the words

XLII SURGEONS must be very careful When they take the knife! Underneath their fine incisions Stirs the culprit,—Life!