588 I cried at Pity—not at Pain— I heard a Woman say “Poor Child”—and something in her… Convicted me—of me—

Going to him! Happy letter! Tell… Tell him the page I didn’t write; Tell him I only said the syntax, And left the verb and the pronoun… Tell him just how the fingers hurr…

427 I’ll clutch—and clutch— Next—One—Might be the golden touc… Could take it— Diamonds—Wait—

710 The Sunrise runs for Both— The East—Her Purple Troth Keeps with the Hill— The Noon unwinds Her Blue

I never hear the word 'escape’ Without a quicker blood, A sudden expectation, A flying attitude. I never hear of prisons broad

400 A Tongue—to tell Him I am true! Its fee—to be of Gold— Had Nature—in Her monstrous Hous… A single Ragged Child—

220 Could I—then—shut the door— Lest my beseeching face—at last— Rejected—be—of Her?

840 I cannot buy it—’tis not sold— There is no other in the World— Mine was the only one I was so happy I forgot

Years I had been from home, And now, before the door I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before Stare vacant into mine

That only lasts an hour How much '— how little '— is Within our power