521 Endow the Living—with the Tears— You squander on the Dead, And They were Men and Women—now, Around Your Fireside—

614 In falling Timbers buried— There breathed a Man— Outside—the spades—were plying— The Lungs—within—

208 The Rose did caper on her cheek— Her Bodice rose and fell— Her pretty speech—like drunken men… Did stagger pitiful—

480 “Why do I love” You, Sir? Because— The Wind does not require the Gra… To answer—Wherefore when He pass

54 If I should die, And you should live— And time should gurgle on— And morn should beam—

213 Did the Harebell loose her girdle To the lover Bee Would the Bee the Harebell hallow Much as formerly?

463 I live with Him — I see His face… I go no more away For Visitor — or Sundown — Death's single privacy

Your Riches—taught me—Poverty. Myself—a Millionaire In little Wealths, as Girls could… Till broad as Buenos Ayre— You drifted your Dominions—

901 Sweet, to have had them lost For news that they be saved— The nearer they departed Us The nearer they, restored,

146 On such a night, or such a night, Would anybody care If such a little figure Slipped quiet from its chair—

I know a place where summer strive… With such a practised frost, She each year leads her daisies ba… Recording briefly, ‘Lost.’ But when the south wind stirs the…