513 Like Flowers, that heard the news… But never deemed the dripping priz… Awaited their—low Brows— Or Bees—that thought the Summer’s…

213 Did the Harebell loose her girdle To the lover Bee Would the Bee the Harebell hallow Much as formerly?

497 He strained my faith— Did he find it supple? Shook my strong trust— Did it then—yield?

The sky is low, the clouds are mea… A travelling flake of snow Across a barn or through a rut Debates if it will go. A narrow wind complains all day

901 Sweet, to have had them lost For news that they be saved— The nearer they departed Us The nearer they, restored,

655 Without this—there is nought— All other Riches be As is the Twitter of a Bird— Heard opposite the Sea—

227 Teach Him – When He makes the na… Such an one – to say – On his babbling – Berry – lips – As should sound – to me –

301 I reason, Earth is short— And Anguish—absolute— And many hurt, But, what of that?

228 Blazing in Gold and quenching in… Leaping like Leopards to the Sky Then at the feet of the old Horiz… Laying her spotted Face to die

154 Except to Heaven, she is nought. Except for Angels—lone. Except to some wide-wandering Bee A flower superfluous blown.

XXXVIII THROUGH the straight pass of su… The martyrs even trod, Their feet upon temptation, Their faces upon God.

735 Upon Concluded Lives There’s nothing cooler falls— Than Life’s sweet Calculations— The mixing Bells and Palls—