97 The rainbow never tells me That gust and storm are by, Yet is she more convincing Than Philosophy.

540 I took my Power in my Hand— And went against the World— ’Twas not so much as David—had— But I—was twice as bold—

113 Our share of night to bear— Our share of morning— Our blank in bliss to fill Our blank in scorning—

1540 As imperceptibly as Grief The Summer lapsed away— Too imperceptible at last To seem like Perfidy—

342 It will be Summer—eventually. Ladies—with parasols— Sauntering Gentlemen—with Canes— And little Girls—with Dolls—

811 The Veins of other Flowers The Scarlet Flowers are Till Nature leisure has for Terms As “Branch,” and “Jugular.”

354 From Cocoon forth a Butterfly As Lady from her Door Emerged—a Summer Afternoon— Repairing Everywhere—

733 The Spirit is the Conscious Ear. We actually Hear When We inspect—that’s audible— That is admitted—Here—

100 A science—so the Savants say, “Comparative Anatomy”— By which a single bone— Is made a secret to unfold

The inundation of the Spring Enlarges every soul - It sweeps the tenement away But leaves the Water whole - In which the soul at first estrang…

458 Like eyes that looked on Wastes— Incredulous of Ought But Blank—and steady Wilderness— Diversified by Night—

722 Sweet Mountains—Ye tell me no lie… Never deny Me—Never fly— Those same unvarying Eyes Turn on Me—when I fail—or feign,