830
To this World she returned.
But with a tinge of that—
A Compound manner,
As a Sod

584
It ceased to hurt me, though so sl
I could not feel the Anguish go—
But only knew by looking back—
That something—had benumbed the T

143
For every Bird a Nest—
Wherefore in timid quest
Some little Wren goes seeking rou
Wherefore when boughs are free—

384
No Rack can torture me—
My Soul—at Liberty—
Behind this mortal Bone
There knits a bolder One—

528
Mine’—by the Right of the White
Mine’—by the Royal Seal!
Mine’—by the Sign in the Scarlet
Bars’—cannot conceal!

653
Of Being is a Bird
The likest to the Down
An Easy Breeze do put afloat
The General Heavens—upon—

97
The rainbow never tells me
That gust and storm are by,
Yet is she more convincing
Than Philosophy.

161
A feather from the Whippoorwill
That everlasting—sings!
Whose galleries—are Sunrise—
Whose Opera—the Springs—

388
Take your Heaven further on—
This—to Heaven divine Has gone—
Had You earlier blundered in
Possibly, e’en You had seen

A wounded deer leaps highest,
I ’ve heard the hunter tell;
’T is but the ecstasy of death,
And then the brake is still.
The smitten rock that gushes,