941
The Lady feeds Her little Bird
At rarer intervals—
The little Bird would not dissent
But meekly recognize

137
Flowers’—Well’—if anybody
Can the ecstasy define’—
Half a transport’—half a trouble’—
With which flowers humble men:

March is the Month of Expectation
The things we do not know -
The Persons of prognostication
Are coming now -
We try to show becoming firmness -

19
A sepal, petal, and a thorn
Upon a common summer’s morn—
A flask of Dew—A Bee or two—
A Breeze—a caper in the trees—

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,

7
The feet of people walking home
With gayer sandals go—
The Crocus—til she rises
The Vassal of the snow—

How slow the Wind -
how slow the sea -
how late their Fathers be!

987
The Leaves like Women interchange
Exclusive Confidence—
Somewhat of nods and somewhat
Portentous inference.

607
Of nearness to her sundered Thing
The Soul has special times—
When Dimness—looks the Oddity—
Distinctness—easy—se ems—

285
The Robin’s my Criterion for Tun
Because I grow—where Robins do—
But, were I Cuckoo born—
I’d swear by him—