The earth has many keys, Where melody is not Is the unknown peninsula. Beauty is nature’s fact. But witness for her land,

A fuzzy fellow, without feet, Yet doth exceeding run! Of velvet, is his Countenance, And his Complexion, dun! Sometime, he dwelleth in the grass…

150 She died—this was the way she died… And when her breath was done Took up her simple wardrobe And started for the sun—

89 Some things that fly there be— Birds—Hours—the Bumblebee— Of these no Elegy. Some things that stay there be—

769 One and One—are One— Two—be finished using— Well enough for schools— But for minor Choosing—

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

660 ’Tis good—the looking back on Gri… To re-endure a Day— We thought the Mighty Funeral— Of All Conceived Joy—

473 I am ashamed’—I hide’— What right have I’—to be a Bride’… So late a Dowerless Girl’— Nowhere to hide my dazzled Face’—

595 Like Mighty Foot Lights’—burned… At Bases of the Trees’— The far Theatricals of Day Exhibiting’—to These’—

393 Did Our Best Moment last— ‘Twould supersede the Heaven— A few—and they by Risk—procure— So this Sort—are not given—

Remembrance has a Rear and Front… ’Tis something like a House - It has a Garret also For Refuse and the Mouse. Besides the deepest Cellar

806 A Planted Life—diversified With Gold and Silver Pain To prove the presence of the Ore In Particles—'tis when