676 Least Bee that brew— A Honey’s Weight Content Her smallest fraction hel… The Amber Quantity—

123 Many cross the Rhine In this cup of mine. Sip old Frankfort air From my brown Cigar.

793 Grief is a Mouse— And chooses Wainscot in the Breas… For His Shy House— And baffles quest—

881 I’ve none to tell me to but Thee So when Thou failest, nobody. It was a little tie— It just held Two, nor those it he…

46 I keep my pledge. I was not called— Death did not notice me. I bring my Rose.

924 Love—is that later Thing than Dea… More previous—than Life— Confirms it at its entrance—And Usurps it—of itself—

575 “Heaven” has different Signs—to m… Sometimes, I think that Noon Is but a symbol of the Place— And when again, at Dawn,

A little road not made of man, Enabled of the eye, Accessible to thill of bee, Or cart of butterfly. If town it have, beyond itself,

530 You cannot put a Fire out— A Thing that can ignite Can go, itself, without a Fan— Upon the slowest Night—

543 I fear a Man of frugal Speech— I fear a Silent Man— Haranguer—I can overtake— Or Babbler—entertain—