142 Whose are the little beds, I aske… Which in the valleys lie? Some shook their heads, and others… And no one made reply.

462 Why make it doubt — it hurts it so… So sick — to guess — So strong — to know — So brave — upon its little Bed

293 I got so I could take his name— Without—Tremendous gain— That Stop-sensation—on my Soul— And Thunder—in the Room—

The grave my little cottage is, Where 'Keeping house’ for thee I make my parlor orderly And lay the marble tea. For two divided, briefly,

929 How far is it to Heaven? As far as Death this way— Of River or of Ridge beyond Was no discovery.

849 The good Will of a Flower The Man who would possess Must first present Certificate

642 Me from Myself — to banish — Had I Art — Impregnable my Fortress Unto All Heart —

302 Like Some Old fashioned Miracle When Summertime is done— Seems Summer’s Recollection And the Affairs of June

513 Like Flowers, that heard the news… But never deemed the dripping priz… Awaited their—low Brows— Or Bees—that thought the Summer’s…

522 Had I presumed to hope— The loss had been to Me A Value—for the Greatness’ Sake— As Giants—gone away—

383 Exhiliration—is within— There can no Outer Wine So royally intoxicate As that diviner Brand