208 The Rose did caper on her cheek— Her Bodice rose and fell— Her pretty speech—like drunken men… Did stagger pitiful—

649 Her Sweet turn to leave the Homes… Came the Darker Way— Carriages—Be Sure—and Guests—too… But for Holiday

The Devil—had he fidelity Would be the best friend— Because he has ability— But Devils cannot mend— Perfidy is the virtue

Going to him! Happy letter! Tell… Tell him the page I didn’t write; Tell him I only said the syntax, And left the verb and the pronoun… Tell him just how the fingers hurr…

The earth has many keys, Where melody is not Is the unknown peninsula. Beauty is nature’s fact. But witness for her land,

293 I got so I could take his name— Without—Tremendous gain— That Stop-sensation—on my Soul— And Thunder—in the Room—

252 I can wade Grief— Whole Pools of it— I’m used to that— But the least push of Joy

8 There is a word Which bears a sword Can pierce an armed man— It hurls its barbed syllables

646 I think to Live—may be a Bliss To those who dare to try— Beyond my limit to conceive— My lip—to testify—

958 We met as Sparks—Diverging Flint… Sent various—scattered ways— We parted as the Central Flint Were cloven with an Adze—

392 Through the Dark Sod—as Educatio… The Lily passes sure— Feels her white foot—no trepidatio… Her faith—no fear—