336
The face I carry with me’—last’—
When I go out of Time’—
To take my Rank’—by’—in the West’
That face’—will just be thine’—

HEAVEN is what I cannot reach!
The apple on the tree,
Provided it do hopeless hang,
That “heaven” is, to me.
The color on the cruising cloud,

Escape is such a thankful Word
I often in the Night
Consider it unto myself
No spectacle in sight
Escape - it is the Basket

70
‘Arcturus’ is his other name’—
I’d rather call him ‘Star.’
It’s very mean of Science
To go and interfere!

835
Nature and God’—I neither knew
Yet Both so well knew me
They startled, like Executors
Of My identity.

102
Great Caesar! Condescend
The Daisy, to receive,
Gathered by Cato’s Daughter,
With your majestic leave!

Some keep the Sabbath going to Ch
I keep it, staying at Home—
With a Bobolink for a Chorister—
And an Orchard, for a Dome—
Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice

384
No Rack can torture me—
My Soul—at Liberty—
Behind this mortal Bone
There knits a bolder One—

763
He told a homely tale
And spotted it with tears—
Upon his infant face was set
The Cicatrice of years—

221
It can’t be “Summer”!
That—got through!
It’s early—yet—for “Spring”!
There’s that long town of White—t