559 It knew no Medicine— It was not Sickness—then— Nor any need of Surgery— And therefore—'twas not Pain—

13 Sleep is supposed to be By souls of sanity The shutting of the eye. Sleep is the station grand

1545 The Bible is an antique Volume— Written by faded men At the suggestion of Holy Spectre… Subjects—Bethlehem&mdash ;

800 Two—were immortal twice— The privilege of few— Eternity—obtained—in Time— Reversed Divinity’—

73 Who never lost, are unprepared A Coronet to find! Who never thirsted Flagons, and Cooling Tamarind!

30 Adrift! A little boat adrift! And night is coming down! Will no one guide a little boat Unto the nearest town?

596 When I was small, a Woman died— Today—her Only Boy Went up from the Potomac— His face all Victory

702 A first Mute Coming— In the Stranger’s House— A first fair Going— When the Bells rejoice—

502 At least—to pray—is left—is left— Oh Jesus—in the Air— I know not which thy chamber is— I’m knocking—everywhere—

862 Light is sufficient to itself— If Others want to see It can be had on Window Panes Some Hours in the Day.

Water makes many Beds For those averse to sleep - Its awful chamber open stands - Its Curtains blandly sweep - Abhorrent is the Rest

636 The Way I read a Letter’s—this— ’Tis first—I lock the Door— And push it with my fingers—next— For transport it be sure—