446 I showed her Heights she never sa… “Would’st Climb,” I said? She said—"Not so"— “With me—” I said—With me?

113 Our share of night to bear— Our share of morning— Our blank in bliss to fill Our blank in scorning—

470 I am alive—I guess— The Branches on my Hand Are full of Morning Glory— And at my finger’s end—

914 I cannot be ashamed Because I cannot see The love you offer— Magnitude

Perhaps I asked too large— I take—no less than skies— For Earths, grow thick as Berries, in my native town— My Basked holds—just—Firmaments—

117 In rags mysterious as these The shining Courtiers go— Veiling the purple, and the plumes… Veiling the ermine so.

Death is like the insect Menacing the tree, Competent to kill it, But decoyed may be. Bait it with the balsam,

87 A darting fear—a pomp—a tear— A waking on a morn To find that what one waked for, Inhales the different dawn.

385 Smiling back from Coronation May be Luxury— On the Heads that started with us… Being’s Peasantry—

819 All I may, if small, Do it not display Larger for the Totalness— ’Tis Economy

603 He found my Being—set it up— Adjusted it to place— Then carved his name—upon it— And bade it to the East

198 An awful Tempest mashed the air— The clouds were gaunt, and few— A Black—as of a Spectre’s Cloak Hid Heaven and Earth from view.

Part One: Life LI IT tossed and tossed,— A little brig I knew,— O’ertook by blast,