742 Four Trees—upon a solitary Acre— Without Design Or Order, or Apparent Action— Maintain—

5 I have a Bird in spring Which for myself doth sing— The spring decoys. And as the summer nears—

348 I would not paint—a picture— I’d rather be the One It’s bright impossibility To dwell—delicious—on—

802 Time feels so vast that were it no… For an Eternity— I fear me this Circumference Engross my Finity—

An Antiquated Tree Is cherished of the Crow Because that Junior Foliage is di… To venerable Birds Whose Corporation Coat

672 The Future—never spoke— Nor will He—like the Dumb— Reveal by sign—a syllable Of His Profound To Come—

883 The Poets light but Lamps— Themselves—go out— The Wicks they stimulate— If vital Light

39 It did not surprise me— So I said—or thought— She will stir her pinions And the nest forgot,

8 There is a word Which bears a sword Can pierce an armed man— It hurls its barbed syllables

To flee from memory Had we the Wings Many would fly Inured to slower things Birds with surprise