We play at paste, Till qualified for pearl, Then drop the paste, And deem ourself a fool. The shapes, though, were similar,

The Hills erect their Purple Hea… The Rivers lean to see Yet Man has not of all the Throng A Curiosity.

921 If it had no pencil Would it try mine— Worn—now—and dull—sweet, Writing much to thee.

33 If recollecting were forgetting, Then I remember not. And if forgetting, recollecting, How near I had forgot.

I never hear the word 'escape’ Without a quicker blood, A sudden expectation, A flying attitude. I never hear of prisons broad

The going from a world we know To one a wonder still Is like the child’s adversity Whose vista is a hill, Behind the hill is sorcery

913 And this of all my Hopes This, is the silent end Bountiful colored, my Morning ros… Early and sere, its end

974 The Soul’s distinct connection With immortality Is best disclosed by Danger Or quick Calamity—

881 I’ve none to tell me to but Thee So when Thou failest, nobody. It was a little tie— It just held Two, nor those it he…

355 ’Tis Opposites—entice— Deformed Men—ponder Grace— Bright fires—the Blanketless— The Lost—Day’s face—

114 Good night, because we must, How intricate the dust! I would go, to know! Oh incognito!