170 Portraits are to daily faces As an Evening West, To a fine, pedantic sunshine— In a satin Vest!

761 From Blank to Blank— A Threadless Way I pushed Mechanic feet— To stop—or perish—or advance—

363 I went to thank Her— But She Slept— Her Bed—a funneled Stone— With Nosegays at the Head and Fo…

207 Tho’ I get home how late—how late… So I get home—’twill compensate— Better will be the Ecstasy That they have done expecting me—

There cam a Wind like a Bugle - It quivered through the Grass And a Green Chill upon the Heat So ominous did pass We barred the Windows and the Doo…

608 Afraid! Of whom am I afraid? Not Death—for who is He? The Porter of my Father’s Lodge As much abasheth me!

332 There are two Ripenings—one—of si… Whose forces Spheric wind Until the Velvet product Drop spicy to the ground—

702 A first Mute Coming— In the Stranger’s House— A first fair Going— When the Bells rejoice—

The earth has many keys, Where melody is not Is the unknown peninsula. Beauty is nature’s fact. But witness for her land,

544 The Martyr Poets—did not tell— But wrought their Pang in syllabl… That when their mortal name be num… Their mortal fate—encourage Some—

The words the happy say Are paltry melody But those the silent feel Are beautiful—

331 While Asters— On the Hill— Their Everlasting fashions—set— And Covenant Gentians—Frill!

553 One Crucifixion is recorded—only— How many be Is not affirmed of Mathematics— Or History—