924 Love—is that later Thing than Dea… More previous—than Life— Confirms it at its entrance—And Usurps it—of itself—

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

623 It was too late for Man— But early, yet, for God— Creation—impotent to help— But Prayer—remained—Our Side—

88 As by the dead we love to sit, Become so wondrous dear— As for the lost we grapple Tho’ all the rest are here—

586 We talked as Girls do— Fond, and late— We speculated fair, on every subje… Of ours, none affair—

423 The Months have ends—the Years—a… No Power can untie To stretch a little further A Skein of Misery—

558 But little Carmine hath her face— Of Emerald scant—her Gown— Her Beauty—is the love she doth— Itself—exhibit—Mine&md ash;

421 A Charm invests a face Imperfectly beheld— The Lady dare not lift her Veil For fear it be dispelled—

The inundation of the Spring Enlarges every soul - It sweeps the tenement away But leaves the Water whole - In which the soul at first estrang…

316 The Wind didn’t come from the Orc… Further than that— Nor stop to play with the Hay— Nor joggle a Hat—

’Twas comfort in her Dying Room To hear the living Clock— A short relief to have the wind Walk boldly up and knock— Diversion from the Dying Theme

102 Great Caesar! Condescend The Daisy, to receive, Gathered by Cato’s Daughter, With your majestic leave!

787 Such is the Force of Happiness— The Least—can lift a Ton Assisted by its stimulus— Who Misery—sustain—