521 Endow the Living—with the Tears— You squander on the Dead, And They were Men and Women—now, Around Your Fireside—

The Grass so little has to do— A Sphere of simple Green— With only Butterflies to brood And Bees to entertain— And stir all day to pretty Tunes

597 It always felt to me—a wrong To that Old Moses—done— To let him see—the Canaan— Without the entering—

’Twas comfort in her Dying Room To hear the living Clock— A short relief to have the wind Walk boldly up and knock— Diversion from the Dying Theme

954 The Chemical conviction That Nought be lost Enable in Disaster My fractured Trust—

8 There is a word Which bears a sword Can pierce an armed man— It hurls its barbed syllables

32 When Roses cease to bloom, Sir, And Violets are done— When Bumblebees in solemn flight Have passed beyond the Sun—

It was not death, for I stood up, And all the dead lie down; It was not night, for all the bell… Put out their tongues, for noon. It was not frost, for on my flesh

114 Good night, because we must, How intricate the dust! I would go, to know! Oh incognito!

872 As the Starved Maelstrom laps the… As the Vulture teased Forces the Broods in lonely Valle… As the Tiger eased