976 Death is a Dialogue between The Spirit and the Dust. “Dissolve” says Death—The Spirit… I have another Trust”—

607 Of nearness to her sundered Thing… The Soul has special times— When Dimness—looks the Oddity— Distinctness—easy—se ems—

78 A poor—torn heart—a tattered heart… That sat it down to rest— Nor noticed that the Ebbing Day Flowed silver to the West—

166 I met a King this afternoon! He had not on a Crown indeed, A little Palmleaf Hat was all, And he was barefoot, I’m afraid!

XXXI I FOUND the phrase to every tho… I ever had, but one; And that defies me,—as a hand Did try to chalk the sun

Not with a club, the Heart is bro… Nor with a stone; A whip, so small you could not see… I’ve known To lash the magic creature

48 Once more, my now bewildered Dove Bestirs her puzzled wings Once more her mistress, on the dee… Her troubled question flings—

792 Through the strait pass of sufferi… The Martyrs—even—trod. Their feet—upon Temptations— Their faces—upon God—

412 I read my sentence—steadily— Reviewed it with my eyes, To see that I made no mistake In its extremest clause—

490 To One denied the drink To tell what Water is Would be acuter, would it not Than letting Him surmise?

393 Did Our Best Moment last— ‘Twould supersede the Heaven— A few—and they by Risk—procure— So this Sort—are not given—

752 So the Eyes accost—and sunder In an Audience— Stamped—occasionally—forever— So may Countenance