I know a place where summer strive… With such a practised frost, She each year leads her daisies ba… Recording briefly, ‘Lost.’ But when the south wind stirs the…

782 There is an arid Pleasure— As different from Joy— As Frost is different from Dew— Like element—are they—

461 A Wife—at daybreak I shall be— Sunrise—Hast thou a Flag for me? At Midnight, I am but a Maid, How short it takes to make a Brid…

42 A Day! Help! Help! Another Day! Your prayers, oh Passer by! From such a common ball as this Might date a Victory!

A little road not made of man, Enabled of the eye, Accessible to thill of bee, Or cart of butterfly. If town it have, beyond itself,

I like to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step Around a pile of mountains,

704 672 No matter—now—Sweet— But when I’m Earl— Won’t you wish you’d spoken

347 When Night is almost done— And Sunrise grows so near That we can touch the Spaces— It’s time to smooth the Hair—

It is an honorable thought, And makes one lift one’s hat, As one encountered gentlefolk Upon a daily street, That we’ve immortal place,

413 I never felt at Home–Below– And in the Handsome Skies I shall not feel at Home–I know– I don’t like Paradise–

685 Not “Revelation”—'tis—that waits, But our unfurnished eyes—

346 Not probable—The barest Chance— A smile too few—a word too much And far from Heaven as the Rest— The Soul so close on Paradise—

612 It would have starved a Gnat— To live so small as I— And yet I was a living Child— With Food’s necessity