448 This was a Poet—It is That Distills amazing sense From ordinary Meanings— And Attar so immense

To see her is a Picture— To hear her is a Tune— To know her an Intemperance As innocent as June— To know her not—Affliction—

I counted till they danced so Their slippers leaped the town, And then I took a pencil To note the rebels down. And then they grew so jolly

A Word dropped careless on a Page May stimulate an eye When folded in perpetual seam The Wrinkled Maker lie Infection in the sentence breeds

383 Exhiliration—is within— There can no Outer Wine So royally intoxicate As that diviner Brand

26 It’s all I have to bring today— This, and my heart beside— This, and my heart, and all the fi… And all the meadows wide—

186 What shall I do—it whimpers so— This little Hound within the Hear… All day and night with bark and st… And yet, it will not go—

828 The Robin is the One That interrupt the Morn With hurried—few—express Reports When March is scarcely on—

804 No Notice gave She, but a Change… No Message, but a Sigh— For Whom, the Time did not suffic… That She should specify.

A narrow fellow in the grass Occasionally rides; You may have met him,—did you not, His notice sudden is. The grass divides as with a comb,

Between My Country—and the Other… There is a Sea— But Flowers—negotiate between us— As Ministry.

940 On that dear Frame the Years had… Yet precious as the House In which We first experienced Lig… The Witnessing, to Us—

“I want”—it pleaded—All its life— I want—was chief it said When Skill entreated it—the last— And when so newly dead— I could not deem it late—to hear