462 Why make it doubt — it hurts it so… So sick — to guess — So strong — to know — So brave — upon its little Bed

Delight becomes pictorial When viewed through pain,— More fair, because impossible That any gain. The mountaln at a given distance

These—saw Visions— Latch them softly— These—held Dimples— Smooth them slow— This—addressed departing accents—

XXV BELSHAZZAR had a letter,— He never had but one; Belshazzar’s correspondent Concluded and begun

The pedigree of honey Does not concern the bee; A clover, any time, to him Is aristocracy.

774 It is a lonesome Glee— Yet sanctifies the Mind— With fair association— Afar upon the Wind

985 The Missing All’—prevented Me From missing minor Things. If nothing larger than a World’s Departure from a Hinge’—

235 The Court is far away— No Umpire—have I— My Sovereign is offended— To gain his grace—I’d die!

1000 The Fingers of the Light Tapped soft upon the Town With “I am great and cannot wait So therefore let me in.”

90 Within my reach! I could have touched! I might have chanced that way! Soft sauntered thro’ the village—

A Sickness of this World it most… When Best Men die. A Wishfulness their far Condition To occupy. A Chief indifference, as Foreign

781 To wait an Hour—is long— If Love be just beyond— To wait Eternity—is short— If Love reward the end—