You love the Lord—you cannot see— You write Him—every day— A little note—when you awake— And further in the Day. An Ample Letter—How you miss—

547 I’ve seen a Dying Eye Run round and round a Room— In search of Something—as it seem… Then Cloudier become—

244 It is easy to work when the soul i… But when the soul is in pain— The hearing him put his playthings… Makes work difficult—then—

XLVII IS Heaven a physician? They say that He can heal; But medicine posthumous Is unavailable.

1100 The last Night that She lived It was a Common Night Except the Dying—this to Us Made Nature different

9 Through lane it lay—through brambl… Through clearing and through wood— Banditti often passed us Upon the lonely road.

Pink, small, and punctual, Aromatic, low, Covert in April, Candid in May, Dear to the moss,

378 I saw no Way—The Heavens were st… I felt the Columns close— The Earth reversed her Hemisphere… I touched the Universe—

A great Hope fell You heard no noise The Ruin was within Oh cunning wreck that told no tale And let no Witness in

592 What care the Dead, for Chanticle… What care the Dead for Day? ’Tis late your Sunrise vex their… And Purple Ribaldry—of Morning

635 I think the longest Hour of all Is when the Cars have come— And we are waiting for the Coach— It seems as though the Time

988 The Definition of Beauty is That Definition is none— Of Heaven, easing Analysis, Since Heaven and He are one.