18 The Gentian weaves her fringes— The Maple’s loom is red— My departing blossoms Obviate parade.

294 The Doomed—regard the Sunrise With different Delight— Because—when next it burns abroad They doubt to witness it—

344 ’Twas the old—road—through pain— That unfrequented—One— With many a turn—and thorn— That stops—at Heaven—

555 Trust in the Unexpected— By this—was William Kidd Persuaded of the Buried Gold— As One had testified—

954 The Chemical conviction That Nought be lost Enable in Disaster My fractured Trust—

A Route of Evanescence With a revolving Wheel— A Resonance of Emerald— A Rush of Cochineal— And every Blossom on the Bush

XXXVI I NEVER hear the word “escape” Without a quicker blood, A sudden expectation, A flying attitude.

LVII EXCEPT the heaven had come so n… So seemed to choose my door, The distance would not haunt me so… I had not hoped before.

The Grass so little has to do— A Sphere of simple Green— With only Butterflies to brood And Bees to entertain— And stir all day to pretty Tunes

433 Knows how to forget! But could It teach it? Easiest of Arts, they say When one learn how

204 I’ll tell you how the Sun rose— A Ribbon at a time— The Steeples swam in Amethyst— The news, like Squirrels, ran—

673 The Love a Life can show Below Is but a filament, I know, Of that diviner thing That faints upon the face of Noon…