695 As if the Sea should part And show a further Sea— And that—a further—and the Three But a presumption be—

550 I cross till I am weary A Mountain—in my mind— More Mountains—then a Sea— More Seas—And then

The bustle in a house The morning after death Is solemnest of industries Enacted upon earth,— The sweeping up the heart,

896 Of Silken Speech and Specious Sh… A Traitor is the Bee His service to the newest Grace Present continually

966 All forgot for recollecting Just a paltry One— All forsook, for just a Stranger’… New Accompanying—

Some Days retired from the rest In soft distinction lie The Day that a Companion came Or was obliged to die

675 Essential Oilsare wrung The Attar from the Rose Be not expressed by Sunsalone It is the gift of Screws

She could not live upon the Past The Present did not know her And so she sought this sweet at la… And nature gently owned her The mother that has not a knell

824 [first version] The Wind begun to knead the Grass… As Women do a Dough— He flung a Hand full at the Plain…

It was not death, for I stood up, And all the dead lie down; It was not night, for all the bell… Put out their tongues, for noon. It was not frost, for on my flesh

463 I live with Him — I see His face… I go no more away For Visitor — or Sundown — Death's single privacy