530 You cannot put a Fire out— A Thing that can ignite Can go, itself, without a Fan— Upon the slowest Night—

826 Love reckons by itself—alone— “As large as I”—relate the Sun To One who never felt it blaze— Itself is all the like it has—

Ended, ere it begun - The Title was scarcely told When the Preface perished from Co… The Story, unrevealed - Had it been mine, to print!

To my quick ear the leaves conferr… The bushes they were bells; I could not find a privacy From Nature’s sentinels. In cave if I presumed to hide,

871 The Sun and Moon must make their… The Stars express around For in the Zones of Paradise The Lord alone is burned—

300 ‘Morning’—means 'Milking’—to the… Dawn’—to the Teneriffe’— Dice’—to the Maid’— Morning means just Risk’—to the L…

The butterfly obtains But little sympathy Though favorably mentioned In Entomology - Because he travels freely

955 The Hollows round His eager Eyes Were Pages where to read Pathetic Histories—although Himself had not complained.

994 Partake as doth the Bee, Abstemiously. The Rose is an Estate— In Sicily.

134 Perhaps you’d like to buy a flower… But I could never sell— If you would like to borrow, Until the Daffodil

793 Grief is a Mouse— And chooses Wainscot in the Breas… For His Shy House— And baffles quest—

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

Her final summer was it, And yet we guessed it not; If tenderer industriousness Pervaded her, we thought A further force of life

649 Her Sweet turn to leave the Homes… Came the Darker Way— Carriages—Be Sure—and Guests—too… But for Holiday