458 Like eyes that looked on Wastes— Incredulous of Ought But Blank—and steady Wilderness— Diversified by Night—

366 Although I put away his life— An Ornament too grand For Forehead low as mine, to wear… This might have been the Hand

121 As Watchers hang upon the East, As Beggars revel at a feast By savory Fancy spread— As brooks in deserts babble sweet

These—saw Visions— Latch them softly— These—held Dimples— Smooth them slow— This—addressed departing accents—

XLVII IS Heaven a physician? They say that He can heal; But medicine posthumous Is unavailable.

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

I felt a cleaving in my mind As if my brain had split; I tried to match it, seam by seam, But could not make them fit. The thought behind I strove to jo…

170 Portraits are to daily faces As an Evening West, To a fine, pedantic sunshine— In a satin Vest!

XXXVIII THROUGH the straight pass of su… The martyrs even trod, Their feet upon temptation, Their faces upon God.

1510 How happy is the little Stone That rambles in the Road alone, And doesn’t care about Careers And Exigencies never fears—

250 I shall keep singing! Birds will pass me On their way to Yellower Climes— Each—with a Robin’s expectation—

266 This—is the land—the Sunset washe… These—are the Banks of the Yellow… Where it rose—or whither it rushes… These—are the Western Mystery!