737 The Moon was but a Chin of Gold A Night or two ago— And now she turns Her perfect Fac… Upon the World below—

Our journey had advanced; Our feet were almost come To that odd fork in Being’s road, Eternity by term. Our pace took sudden awe,

I watched the Moon around the Hou… Until upon a Pane— She stopped—a Traveller’s privile… And there upon I gazed—as at a stranger—

A Sickness of this World it most… When Best Men die. A Wishfulness their far Condition To occupy. A Chief indifference, as Foreign

218 Is it true, dear Sue? Are there two? I shouldn’t like to come For fear of joggling Him!

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

651 So much Summer Me for showing Illegitimate— Would a Smile’s minute bestowing

The words the happy say Are paltry melody But those the silent feel Are beautiful—

525 I think the Hemlock likes to stan… Upon a Marge of Snow— It suits his own Austerity— And satisfies an awe

448 This was a Poet—It is That Distills amazing sense From ordinary Meanings— And Attar so immense

The day came slow, till five o’clo… Then sprang before the hills, Like hindered rubies, or the light… A sudden musket spills. The purple could not keep the east…

889 Crisis is a Hair Toward which the forces creep Past which forces retrograde If it come in sleep