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

Of Brussels—it was not— Of Kidderminster? Nay— The Winds did buy it of the Woods… They—sold it unto me It was a gentle price—

185 “Faith” is a fine invention When Gentlemen can see— But Microscopes are prudent In an Emergency.

Exhilaration is the Breeze That lifts us from the Ground And leaves us in another place Whose statement is not found - Returns us not, but after time

563 I could not prove the Years had f… Yet confident they run Am I, from symptoms that are past And Series that are done—

763 He told a homely tale And spotted it with tears— Upon his infant face was set The Cicatrice of years—

959 A loss of something ever felt I— The first that I could recollect Bereft I was—of what I knew not Too young that any should suspect

625 ’Twas a long Parting—but the time For Interview—had Come— Before the Judgment Seat of God— The last—and second time

“Sic transit gloria mundi,” “How doth the busy bee,” “Dum vivimus vivamus,” I stay mine enemy! Oh “veni, vidi, vici!”

I dreaded that first robin so, But he is mastered now, And I’m accustomed to him grown,— He hurts a little, though. I thought if I could only live