665
Dropped into the Ether Acre—
Wearing the Sod Gown—
Bonnet of Everlasting Laces—
Brooch—frozen on—

831
Dying! To be afraid of thee
One must to thine Artillery
Have left exposed a Friend—
Than thine old Arrow is a Shot

693
Shells from the Coast mistaking—
I cherished them for All—
Happening in After Ages
To entertain a Pearl—

PORTRAITS are to daily faces
As an evening west
To a fine, pedantic sunshine
In a satin vest.

571
Must be a Woe—
A loss or so—
To bend the eye
Best Beauty’s way—

995
This was in the White of the Year
That—was in the Green—
Drifts were as difficult then to t
As Daisies now to be seen—

35
Nobody knows this little Rose—
It might a pilgrim be
Did I not take it from the ways
And lift it up to thee.

410
The first Day’s Night had come—
And grateful that a thing
So terrible—had been endured—
I told my Soul to sing—

A POOR torn heart, a tattered he
That sat it down to rest,
Nor noticed that the ebbing day
Flowed silver to the west,
Nor noticed night did soft descend

457
Sweet—safe—Houses—Glad—gay—
Sealed so stately tight—
Lids of Steel—on Lids of Marble—
Locking Bare feet out—