LXIII TALK with prudence to a beggar Of “Potosi” and the mines! Reverently to the hungry Of your viands and your wines!

STEP lightly on this narrow spot… The broadest land that grows Is not so ample as the breast These emerald seams enclose. Step lofty; for this name is told

118 My friend attacks my friend! Oh Battle picturesque! Then I turn Soldier too, And he turns Satirist!

727 Precious to Me—She still shall be… Though She forget the name I bear… The fashion of the Gown I wear— The very Color of My Hair—

1670 In Winter in my Room I came upon a Worm— Pink, lank and warm— But as he was a worm

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’—

A drop fell on the apple tree, Another on the roof; A half a dozen kissed the eaves, And made the gables laugh. A few went out to help the brook,

13 Sleep is supposed to be By souls of sanity The shutting of the eye. Sleep is the station grand

“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

907 Till Death’—is narrow Loving’— The scantest Heart extant Will hold you till your privilege Of Finiteness’—be spent’—

Silence is all we dread. There’s Ransom in a Voice - But Silence is Infinity. Himself have not a face.

141 Some, too fragile for winter winds The thoughtful grave encloses— Tenderly tucking them in from fros… Before their feet are cold.