The Soul selects her own Society—
Then—shuts the Door—
To her divine Majority—
Present no more—
Unmoved—she notes the Chariots—pa

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

57
To venerate the simple days
Which lead the seasons by,
Needs but to remember
That from you or I,

Fame is a fickle food
Upon a shifting plate
Whose table once a
Guest but not
The second time is set.

Pain has an element of blank;
It cannot recollect
When it began, or if there were
A day when it was not.
It has no future but itself,

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

184
A transport one cannot contain
May yet a transport be—
Though God forbid it lift the lid
Unto its Ecstasy!

578
The Body grows without—
The more convenient way—
That if the Spirit—like to hide
Its Temple stands, alway,

619
Glee’—The great storm is over’—
Four’—have recovered the Land’—
Forty’—gone down together’—
Into the boiling Sand’—

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