165 A Wounded Deer—leaps highest— I’ve heard the Hunter tell— ’Tis but the Ecstasy of death— And then the Brake is still!

569 I reckon—when I count at all— First—Poets—Then the Sun— Then Summer—Then the Heaven of G… And then—the List is done—

515 No Crowd that has occurred Exhibit—I suppose That General Attendance That Resurrection—does—

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

428 Taking up the fair Ideal, Just to cast her down When a fracture—we discover— Or a splintered Crown—

’Twas comfort in her Dying Room To hear the living Clock— A short relief to have the wind Walk boldly up and knock— Diversion from the Dying Theme

697 I could bring You Jewels—had I a… But You have enough—of those— I could bring You Odors from St.… Colors—from Vera Cruz—

Lives he in any other world My faith cannot reply Before it was imperative ’Twas all distinct to me -

476 I meant to have but modest needs— Such as Content—and Heaven— Within my income—these could lie And Life and I—keep even—

224 I've nothing else—to bring, You k… So I keep bringing These— Just as the Night keeps fetching… To our familiar eyes—