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

148 All overgrown by cunning moss, All interspersed with weed, The little cage of “Currer Bell” In quiet “Haworth” laid.

396 There is a Languor of the Life More imminent than Pain— ’Tis Pain’s Successor—When the S… Has suffered all it can—

My cocoon tightens, colors tease, I’m feeling for the air; A dim capacity for wings Degrades the dress I wear. A power of butterfly must be

566 A Dying Tiger—moaned for Drink— I hunted all the Sand— I caught the Dripping of a Rock And bore it in my Hand—

71 A throe upon the features— A hurry in the breath— An ecstasy of parting Denominated “Death”—

XVI TO fight aloud is very brave, But gallanter, I know, Who charge within the bosom, The cavalry of woe.

‘And with what body do they come?’… Then they do come - Rejoice! What Door– What Hour– Run– ru… Illuminate the House! ‘Body!’ Then real– a Face and E…

21 We lose—because we win— Gamblers—recollecting which Toss their dice again!

MINE enemy is growing old, I have at last revenge. The palate of the hate departs; If any would avenge, Let him be quick, the viand flits,