I cannot live with You— It would be Life— And Life is over there— Behind the Shelf The Sexton keeps the Key to—

The cricket sang, And set the sun, And workmen finished, one by one, Their seam the day upon. The low grass loaded with the dew,

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

676 Least Bee that brew— A Honey’s Weight Content Her smallest fraction hel… The Amber Quantity—

523 Sweet—You forgot—but I remembered Every time—for Two— So that the Sum be never hindered Through Decay of You—

931 Noon—is the Hinge of Day— Evening—the Tissue Door— Morning—the East compelling the s… Till all the World is ajar—

I like to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step Around a pile of mountains,

I many times thought Peace had co… When Peace was far away’— As Wrecked Men’—deem they sight t… At Centre of the Sea’— And struggle slacker’—but to prove

742 Four Trees—upon a solitary Acre— Without Design Or Order, or Apparent Action— Maintain—

628 They called me to the Window, for “ ’Twas Sunset”—Some one said— I only saw a Sapphire Farm— And just a Single Herd—

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

I felt a cleaving in my mind As if my brain had split; I tried to match it, seam by seam, But could not make them fit. The thought behind I strove to jo…

Our journey had advanced; Our feet were almost come To that odd fork in Being’s road, Eternity by term. Our pace took sudden awe,