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…

The sky is low, the clouds are mea… A travelling flake of snow Across a barn or through a rut Debates if it will go. A narrow wind complains all day

458 Like eyes that looked on Wastes— Incredulous of Ought But Blank—and steady Wilderness— Diversified by Night—

869 Because the Bee may blameless hum For Thee a Bee do I become List even unto Me. Because the Flowers unafraid

Those fair—fictitious People— The Women—plucked away From our familiar Lifetime— The Men of Ivory— Those Boys and Girls, in Canvas—

XXIV A NARROW fellow in the grass Occasionally rides; You may have met him,—did you not? His notice sudden is.

The Black Berry—wears a Thorn in… But no Man heard Him cry— He offers His Berry, just the sam… To Partridge—and to Boy— He sometimes holds upon the Fence…

On my volcano grows the Grass A meditative spot - An acre for a Bird to choose Would be the General thought - How red the Fire rocks below -

We don’t cry—Tim and I, We are far too grand— But we bolt the door tight To prevent a friend— Then we hide our brave face

838 Impossibility, like Wine Exhilarates the Man Who tastes it; Possibility Is flavorless—Combine

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