806 A Planted Life—diversified With Gold and Silver Pain To prove the presence of the Ore In Particles—'tis when

My River runs to thee’— Blue Sea! Wilt welcome me? My River wait reply’— Oh Sea’—look graciously’— I’ll fetch thee Brooks

204 A slash of Blue— A sweep of Gray— Some scarlet patches on the way, Compose an Evening Sky—

I’m saying every day “If I should be a Queen, tomorrow… I’d do this way — And so I deck, a little, If it be, I wake a Bourbon,

A door just opened on a street— I, lost, was passing by— An instant’s width of warmth discl… And wealth, and company. The door as sudden shut, and I,

894 Of Consciousness, her awful Mate The Soul cannot be rid— As easy the secreting her Behind the Eyes of God.

As from the earth the light Ballo… Asks nothing but release - Ascension that for which it was, Its soaring Residence. The spirit looks upon the Dust

’Twas comfort in her Dying Room To hear the living Clock— A short relief to have the wind Walk boldly up and knock— Diversion from the Dying Theme

Whether they have forgotten Or are forgetting now Or never remembered - Safer not to know - Miseries of conjecture

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

Between My Country—and the Other… There is a Sea— But Flowers—negotiate between us— As Ministry.