207 Tho’ I get home how late—how late… So I get home—’twill compensate— Better will be the Ecstasy That they have done expecting me—

Air has no Residence, no Neighbor… No Ear, no Door, No Apprehension of Another Oh, Happy Air! Ethereal Guest at e’en an Outcast…

930 There is a June when Corn is cut And Roses in the Seed— A Summer briefer than the first But tenderer indeed

339 I tend my flowers for thee— Bright Absentee! My Fuchsia’s Coral Seams Rip—while the Sower—dreams—

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

444 It feels a shame to be Alive— When Men so brave—are dead— One envies the Distinguished Dust… Permitted—such a Head—

421 A Charm invests a face Imperfectly beheld— The Lady dare not lift her Veil For fear it be dispelled—

785 They have a little Odor—that to m… Is metre—nay—’tis melody— And spiciest at fading—indicate— A Habit—of a Laureate—

878 The Sun is gay or stark According to our Deed. If Merry, He is merrier— If eager for the Dead

God permit industrious angels Afternoons to play. I met one,—forgot my school-mates, All, for him, straightaway. God calls home the angels promptly

673 The Love a Life can show Below Is but a filament, I know, Of that diviner thing That faints upon the face of Noon…