331 While Asters— On the Hill— Their Everlasting fashions—set— And Covenant Gentians—Frill!

It stole along so stealthy Suspicion it was done Was dim as to the wealthy Beginning not to own -

772 The hallowing of Pain Like hallowing of Heaven, Obtains at a corporeal cost— The Summit is not given

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

580 I gave myself to Him— And took Himself, for Pay, The solemn contract of a Life Was ratified, this way—

“Sic transit gloria mundi,” “How doth the busy bee,” “Dum vivimus vivamus,” I stay mine enemy! Oh “veni, vidi, vici!”

LV MY country need not change her go… Her triple suit as sweet As when ’t was cut at Lexington, And first pronounced “a fit.”

372 I know lives, I could miss Without a Misery— Others—whose instant’s wanting— Would be Eternity—

830 To this World she returned. But with a tinge of that— A Compound manner, As a Sod

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

681 Soil of Flint, if steady tilled— Will refund by Hand— Seed of Palm, by Libyan Sun Fructified in Sand—