455 Triumph—may be of several kinds— There’s Triumph in the Room When that Old Imperator—Death— By Faith

347 When Night is almost done— And Sunrise grows so near That we can touch the Spaces— It’s time to smooth the Hair—

567 He gave away his Life— To Us—Gigantic Sum— A trifle—in his own esteem— But magnified—by Fame—

542 I had no Cause to be awake— My Best—was gone to sleep— And Morn a new politeness took— And failed to wake them up—

109 By a flower—By a letter— By a nimble love— If I weld the Rivet faster— Final fast—above—

5 I have a Bird in spring Which for myself doth sing— The spring decoys. And as the summer nears—

The Grass so little has to do '€“ A Sphere of simple Green '€“ With only Butterflies to brood And Bees to entertain '€“ And stir all day to pretty Tunes

631 Ourselves were wed one summer’—dea… Your Vision’—was in June’— And when Your little Lifetime fai… I wearied’—too’—of mine’—

357 God is a distant—stately Lover— Woos, as He states us—by His Son… Verily, a Vicarious Courtship— “Miles”, and “Priscilla”, were su…

88 As by the dead we love to sit, Become so wondrous dear— As for the lost we grapple Tho’ all the rest are here—