Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself,

The soul selects her own society, Then shuts the door; On her divine majority Obtrude no more. Unmoved, she notes the chariot’s p…

901 Sweet, to have had them lost For news that they be saved— The nearer they departed Us The nearer they, restored,

163 Tho’ my destiny be Fustian— Hers be damask fine— Tho’ she wear a silver apron— I, a less divine—

432 Do People moulder equally, They bury, in the Grave? I do believe a Species As positively live

I like to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step Around a pile of mountains,

XXXVI I NEVER hear the word “escape” Without a quicker blood, A sudden expectation, A flying attitude.

198 An awful Tempest mashed the air— The clouds were gaunt, and few— A Black—as of a Spectre’s Cloak Hid Heaven and Earth from view.

469 The Red—Blaze—is the Morning— The Violet—is Noon— The Yellow—Day—is falling— And after that—is none—

246 Forever at His side to walk— The smaller of the two! Brain of His Brain— Blood of His Blood—

761 From Blank to Blank— A Threadless Way I pushed Mechanic feet— To stop—or perish—or advance—