89 Some things that fly there be— Birds—Hours—the Bumblebee— Of these no Elegy. Some things that stay there be—

Remembrance has a Rear and Front… ’Tis something like a House - It has a Garret also For Refuse and the Mouse. Besides the deepest Cellar

12 The morns are meeker than they wer… The nuts are getting brown— The berry’s cheek is plumper— The Rose is out of town.

A Sloop of Amber slips away Upon an Ether Sea, And wrecks in Peace a Purple Tar… The Son of Ecstasy -

78 A poor—torn heart—a tattered heart… That sat it down to rest— Nor noticed that the Ebbing Day Flowed silver to the West—

71 A throe upon the features— A hurry in the breath— An ecstasy of parting Denominated “Death”—

Nature rarer uses yellow Than another hue; Saves she all of that for sunsets,… Prodigal of blue, Spending scarlet like a woman,

497 He strained my faith— Did he find it supple? Shook my strong trust— Did it then—yield?

368 How sick—to wait—in any place—but… I knew last night—when someone tri… Thinking—perhaps—that I looked ti… Or breaking—almost—with unspoken p…

844 Spring is the Period Express from God. Among the other seasons Himself abide,

685 Not “Revelation”—'tis—that waits, But our unfurnished eyes—

402 I pay—in Satin Cash— You did not state—your price— A Petal, for a Paragraph It near as I can guess—

535 She’s happy, with a new Content— That feels to her—like Sacrament— She’s busy—with an altered Care— As just apprenticed to the Air—