“Heaven” has different Signs—to m… Sometimes, I think that Noon Is but a symbol of the Place— And when again, at Dawn, A mighty look runs round the Worl…

My life had stood—a Loaded Gun— In Corners—till a Day The Owner passed—identified— And carried Me away— And now We roam in Sovereign Woo…

310 Give little Anguish— Lives will fret— Give Avalanches— And they’ll slant—

101 Will there really be a “Morning”? Is there such a thing as “Day”? Could I see it from the mountains If I were as tall as they?

854 Banish Air from Air— Divide Light if you dare— They’ll meet While Cubes in a Drop

Years I had been from home, And now, before the door I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before Stare vacant into mine

669 No Romance sold unto Could so enthrall a Man As the perusal of His Individual One—

534 We see—Comparatively— The Thing so towering high We could not grasp its segment Unaided—Yesterday—

It struck me every day The lightning was as new As if the cloud that instant slit And let the fire through. It burned me in the night,

Publication—is the Auction Of the Mind of Man— Poverty—be justifying For so foul a thing Possibly—but We—would rather

1100 The last Night that She lived It was a Common Night Except the Dying—this to Us Made Nature different

529 I’m sorry for the Dead—Today— It’s such congenial times Old Neighbors have at fences— It’s time o’ year for Hay.