A fuzzy fellow, without feet, Yet doth exceeding run! Of velvet, is his Countenance, And his Complexion, dun! Sometime, he dwelleth in the grass…

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

956 What shall I do when the Summer t… What, when the Rose is ripe— What when the Eggs fly off in Mus… From the Maple Keep?

161 A feather from the Whippoorwill That everlasting—sings! Whose galleries—are Sunrise— Whose Opera—the Springs—

971 Robbed by Death—but that was easy… To the failing Eye I could hold the latest Glowing— Robbed by Liberty

I have no life but this, To lead it here; Nor any death, but lest Dispelled from there; Nor tie to earths to come,

My nosegays are for captives; Dim, long-expectant eyes, Fingers denied the plucking, Patient till paradise. To such, if they should whisper

889 Crisis is a Hair Toward which the forces creep Past which forces retrograde If it come in sleep

54 If I should die, And you should live— And time should gurgle on— And morn should beam—

921 If it had no pencil Would it try mine— Worn—now—and dull—sweet, Writing much to thee.

479 She dealt her pretty words like B… How glittering they shone— And every One unbared a Nerve Or wantoned with a Bone—