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

Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself,

679 Conscious am I in my Chamber, Of a shapeless friend— He doth not attest by Posture— Nor Confirm—by Word—

Nature rarer uses yellow Than another hue; Saves she all of that for sunsets,… Prodigal of blue, Spending scarlet like a woman,

I have no life but this, To lead it here; Nor any death, but lest Dispelled from there; Nor tie to earths to come,

12 The morns are meeker than they wer… The nuts are getting brown— The berry’s cheek is plumper— The Rose is out of town.

An Antiquated Tree Is cherished of the Crow Because that Junior Foliage is di… To venerable Birds Whose Corporation Coat

453 Love—thou art high— I cannot climb thee— But, were it Two— Who know but we—

815 The Luxury to apprehend The Luxury 'twould be To look at Thee a single time An Epicure of Me

MINE enemy is growing old, I have at last revenge. The palate of the hate departs; If any would avenge, Let him be quick, the viand flits,

176 I’m the little “Heart’s Ease”! I don’t care for pouting skies! If the Butterfly delay Can I, therefore, stay away?

Nature, the gentlest mother, Impatient of no child, The feeblest or the waywardest, Her admonition mild In forest and the hill