560 It knew no lapse, nor Diminuation… But large—serene— Burned on—until through Dissoluti… It failed from Men—

161 A feather from the Whippoorwill That everlasting—sings! Whose galleries—are Sunrise— Whose Opera—the Springs—

547 I’ve seen a Dying Eye Run round and round a Room— In search of Something—as it seem… Then Cloudier become—

We play at paste, Till qualified for pearl, Then drop the paste, And deem ourself a fool. The shapes, though, were similar,

964 “Unto Me?” I do not know you— Where may be your House? “I am Jesus—Late of Judea— Now—of Paradise”—

308 I send Two Sunsets— Day and I—in competition ran— I finished Two—and several Stars— While He—was making One—

71 A throe upon the features— A hurry in the breath— An ecstasy of parting Denominated “Death”—

497 He strained my faith— Did he find it supple? Shook my strong trust— Did it then—yield?

440 ’Tis customary as we part A trinket—to confer— It helps to stimulate the faith When Lovers be afar—

802 Time feels so vast that were it no… For an Eternity— I fear me this Circumference Engross my Finity—