603 He found my Being—set it up— Adjusted it to place— Then carved his name—upon it— And bade it to the East

23 I had a guinea golden— I lost it in the sand— And tho’ the sum was simple And pounds were in the land—

If I can stop one heart from brea… I shall not live in vain; If I can ease one life the aching… Or cool one pain, Or help one fainting robin

Success is counted sweetest By those who ne’er succeed. To comprehend a nectar Requires sorest need. Not one of all the purple Host

I saw the wind within her I knew it blew for me '— But she must buy my shelter I asked Humility

501 This World is not Conclusion. A Species stands beyond— Invisible, as Music— But positive, as Sound—

203 He forgot—and I—remembered— ’Twas an everyday affair— Long ago as Christ and Peter— “Warmed them” at the “Temple fire…

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

21 We lose—because we win— Gamblers—recollecting which Toss their dice again!

56 If I should cease to bring a Rose Upon a festal day, ‘Twill be because beyond the Rose I have been called away—

148 All overgrown by cunning moss, All interspersed with weed, The little cage of “Currer Bell” In quiet “Haworth” laid.