348 I would not paint—a picture— I’d rather be the One It’s bright impossibility To dwell—delicious—on—

52 Whether my bark went down at sea— Whether she met with gales— Whether to isles enchanted She bent her docile sails—

727 Precious to Me—She still shall be… Though She forget the name I bear… The fashion of the Gown I wear— The very Color of My Hair—

198 An awful Tempest mashed the air— The clouds were gaunt, and few— A Black—as of a Spectre’s Cloak Hid Heaven and Earth from view.

236 If He dissolve – then – there is… Eclipse – at Midnight – It was dark – before – Sunset – at Easter –

For each ecstatic instant We must an anguish pay In keen and quivering ratio To the ectasty. For each beloved hour

956 What shall I do when the Summer t… What, when the Rose is ripe— What when the Eggs fly off in Mus… From the Maple Keep?

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