606 The Trees like Tassels—hit—and sw… There seemed to rise a Tune From Miniature Creatures Accompanying the Sun—

11 I never told the buried gold Upon the hill—that lies— I saw the sun—his plunder done Crouch low to guard his prize.

719 A South Wind—has a pathos Of individual Voice— As One detect on Landings An Emigrant’s address.

235 The Court is far away— No Umpire—have I— My Sovereign is offended— To gain his grace—I’d die!

634 You’ll know Her—by Her Foot— The smallest Gamboge Hand With Fingers—where the Toes shoul… Would more affront the Sand—

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

Too cold is this To warm with Sun - Too stiff to bended be, To joint this Agate were a work - Outstaring Masonry -

March is the Month of Expectation… The things we do not know - The Persons of prognostication Are coming now - We try to show becoming firmness -