THE Brain—is wider than the sky— For—put them side by side— The one the other will include With ease—and you—beside— The Brain is deeper than the sea—

384 No Rack can torture me— My Soul—at Liberty— Behind this mortal Bone There knits a bolder One—

108 Surgeons must be very careful When they take the knife! Underneath their fine incisions Stirs the Culprit—Life!

The Mushroom is the Elf of Plant… At Evening, it is not At Morning, in a Truffled Hut It stop opon a Spot As if it tarried always

XLVIII THOUGH I get home how late, how… So I get home, ’t will compensate… Better will be the ecstasy That they have done expecting me,

The Work of Her that went, The Toil of Fellows done - In Ovens green our Mother bakes, By Fires of the Sun.

Drowning is not so pitiful As the attempt to rise. Three times, 't is said, a sinking… Comes up to face the skies, And then declines forever

335 ’Tis not that Dying hurts us so— ’Tis Living—hurts us more— But Dying—is a different way— A Kind behind the Door—