471 A Night—there lay the Days betwee… The Day that was Before— And Day that was Behind—were one— And now—'twas Night—was here—

930 There is a June when Corn is cut And Roses in the Seed— A Summer briefer than the first But tenderer indeed

989 Gratitude—is not the mention Of a Tenderness, But its still appreciation Out of Plumb of Speech.

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

145 This heart that broke so long— These feet that never flagged— This faith that watched for star i… Give gently to the dead—

947 Of Tolling Bell I ask the cause? “A Soul has gone to Heaven” I’m answered in a lonesome tone— Is Heaven then a Prison?

944 I learned—at least—what Home coul… How ignorant I had been Of pretty ways of Covenant— How awkward at the Hymn

952 A Man may make a Remark— In itself—a quiet thing That may furnish the Fuse unto a… In dormant nature—lain—

736 Have any like Myself Investigating March, New Houses on the Hill descried— And possibly a Church—

I hide myself within my flower, That wearing on your breast, You, unsuspecting, wear me too - And angels know the rest. I hide myself within my flower,