463 I live with Him — I see His face… I go no more away For Visitor — or Sundown — Death's single privacy

961 Wert Thou but ill—that I might sh… How long a Day I could endure Though thine attention stop not on… Nor the least signal, Me assure—

1510 How happy is the little Stone That rambles in the Road alone, And doesn’t care about Careers And Exigencies never fears—

987 The Leaves like Women interchange Exclusive Confidence— Somewhat of nods and somewhat Portentous inference.

The Butterfly’s Assumption Gown In Chrysoprase Apartments hung This afternoon put on— How condescending to descend And be of Buttercups the friend

144 She bore it till the simple veins Traced azure on her hand— Til pleading, round her quiet eyes The purple Crayons stand.

830 To this World she returned. But with a tinge of that— A Compound manner, As a Sod

I saw the wind within her I knew it blew for me '— But she must buy my shelter I asked Humility

The Soul selects her own Society— Then—shuts the Door— To her divine Majority— Present no more— Unmoved—she notes the Chariots—pa…

101 Will there really be a “Morning”? Is there such a thing as “Day”? Could I see it from the mountains If I were as tall as they?

990 Not all die early, dying young— Maturity of Fate Is consummated equally In Ages, or a Night—

545 ’Tis One by One—the Father count… And then a Tract between Set Cypherless—to teach the Eye The Value of its Ten—

949 Under the Light, yet under, Under the Grass and the Dirt, Under the Beetle’s Cellar Under the Clover’s Root,