Each life converges to some centre Expressed or still; Exists in every human nature A goal, Admitted scarcely to itself, it ma…

557 She hideth Her the last— And is the first, to rise— Her Night doth hardly recompense The Closing of Her eyes—

945 This is a Blossom of the Brain— A small—italic Seed Lodged by Design or Happening The Spirit fructified—

‘Heavenly Father’ - take to thee The supreme iniquity Fashioned by thy candid Hand In a moment contraband - Though to trust us - seems to us

364 The Morning after Woe— ’Tis frequently the Way— Surpasses all that rose before— For utter Jubilee—

224 I've nothing else—to bring, You k… So I keep bringing These— Just as the Night keeps fetching… To our familiar eyes—

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—

567 He gave away his Life— To Us—Gigantic Sum— A trifle—in his own esteem— But magnified—by Fame—

It was not death, for I stood up, And all the dead lie down; It was not night, for all the bell… Put out their tongues, for noon. It was not frost, for on my flesh

748 Autumn—overlooked my Knitting— Dyes—said He—have I— Could disparage a Flamingo— Show Me them—said I—