By homely gift and hindered Words The human heart is told Of Nothing - ‘Nothing’ is the force That renovates the World -

837 How well I knew Her not Whom not to know has been A Bounty in prospective, now Next Door to mine the Pain.

694 The Heaven vests for Each In that small Deity It craved the grace to worship Some bashful Summer’s Day—

There is another sky, Ever serene and fair, And there is another sunshine, Though it be darkness there; Never mind faded forests, Austin,

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

443 I tie my Hat—I crease my Shawl— Life’s little duties do—precisely— As the very least Were infinite—to me—

643 I could suffice for Him, I knew— He—could suffice for Me— Yet Hesitating Fractions—Both Surveyed Infinity—

The bustle in a house The morning after death Is solemnest of industries Enacted upon earth,— The sweeping up the heart,

732 She rose to His Requirement—dropt The Playthings of Her Life To take the honorable Work Of Woman, and of Wife—

856 There is a finished feeling Experienced at Graves— A leisure of the Future— A Wilderness of Size.

119 Talk with prudence to a Beggar Of “Potose,” and the mines! Reverently, to the Hungry Of your viands, and your wines!

A Pang is more conspicuous in Spr… In contrast with the things that s… Not Birds entirely– but Minds – Minute Effulgencies and Winds - When what they sung for is undone