I like to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step Around a pile of mountains,

146 On such a night, or such a night, Would anybody care If such a little figure Slipped quiet from its chair—

220 Could I—then—shut the door— Lest my beseeching face—at last— Rejected—be—of Her?

348 I dreaded that first Robin, so, But He is mastered, now, I’m accustomed to Him grown, He hurts a little, though—

Exhilaration is the Breeze That lifts us from the Ground And leaves us in another place Whose statement is not found - Returns us not, but after time

808 So set its Sun in Thee What Day be dark to me— What Distance—far— So I the Ships may see

“Heaven” has different Signs—to m… Sometimes, I think that Noon Is but a symbol of the Place— And when again, at Dawn, A mighty look runs round the Worl…

It dropped so low—in my Regard— I heard it hit the Ground— And go to pieces on the Stones At bottom of my Mind— Yet blamed the Fate that flung it…

Each life converges to some centre Expressed or still; Exists in every human nature A goal, Admitted scarcely to itself, it ma…

805 This Bauble was preferred of Bees… By Butterflies admired At Heavenly—Hopeless Distances— Was justified of Bird—