705 Suspense—is Hostiler than Death— Death—tho’soever Broad, Is just Death, and cannot increas… Suspense—does not conclude –

If you were coming in the fall, I’d brush the summer by With half a smile and half a spum, As housewives do a fly. If I could see you in a year,

467 We do not play on Graves— Because there isn’t Room— Besides—it isn’t even—it slants And People come—

167 To learn the Transport by the Pai… As Blind Men learn the sun! To die of thirst—suspecting That Brooks in Meadows run!

5 I have a Bird in spring Which for myself doth sing— The spring decoys. And as the summer nears—

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

XXIX THE nearest dream recedes, unreal… The heaven we chase Like the June bee Before the school—boy

The Grass so little has to do— A Sphere of simple Green— With only Butterflies to brood And Bees to entertain— And stir all day to pretty Tunes

XVII WHEN night is almost done, And sunrise grows so near That we can touch the spaces, It ’s time to smooth the hair

“I want”—it pleaded—All its life— I want—was chief it said When Skill entreated it—the last— And when so newly dead— I could not deem it late—to hear

724 It’s easy to invent a Life— God does it—every Day— Creation—but the Gambol Of His Authority—

929 How far is it to Heaven? As far as Death this way— Of River or of Ridge beyond Was no discovery.

‘Heavenly Father’ - take to thee The supreme iniquity Fashioned by thy candid Hand In a moment contraband - Though to trust us - seems to us