879 Each Second is the last Perhaps, recalls the Man Just measuring unconsciousness The Sea and Spar between.

556 The Brain, within its Groove Runs evenly—and true— But let a Splinter swerve— ’Twere easier for You—

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

596 When I was small, a Woman died— Today—her Only Boy Went up from the Potomac— His face all Victory

“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

313 I should have been too glad, I se… Too lifted—for the scant degree Of Life’s penurious Round— My little Circuit would have sham…

312 Her—last Poems— Poets ended— Silver—perished—with her Tongue— Not on Record—bubbled Other,

415 Sunset at Night—is natural— But Sunset on the Dawn Reverses Nature—Master— So Midnight’s—due—at Noon.

898 How happy I was if I could forget To remember how sad I am Would be an easy adversity But the recollecting of Bloom

It’s thoughts—and just One Heart— And Old Sunshine—about— Make frugal—Ones—Content— And two or three—for Company— Upon a Holiday—

186 What shall I do—it whimpers so— This little Hound within the Hear… All day and night with bark and st… And yet, it will not go—

Death leaves Us homesick, who beh… Except that it is gone Are ignorant of its Concern As if it were not born. Through all their former Places,…

815 The Luxury to apprehend The Luxury 'twould be To look at Thee a single time An Epicure of Me