You love the Lord—you cannot see— You write Him—every day— A little note—when you awake— And further in the Day. An Ample Letter—How you miss—

570 I could die—to know— ’Tis a trifling knowledge— News-Boys salute the Door— Carts—joggle by—

623 It was too late for Man— But early, yet, for God— Creation—impotent to help— But Prayer—remained—Our Side—

612 It would have starved a Gnat— To live so small as I— And yet I was a living Child— With Food’s necessity

845 Be Mine the Doom— Sufficient Fame— To perish in Her Hand!

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

To see her is a Picture— To hear her is a Tune— To know her an Intemperance As innocent as June— To know her not—Affliction—

820 All Circumstances are the Frame In which His Face is set— All Latitudes exist for His Sufficient Continent—

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

56 If I should cease to bring a Rose Upon a festal day, ‘Twill be because beyond the Rose I have been called away—

461 A Wife—at daybreak I shall be— Sunrise—Hast thou a Flag for me? At Midnight, I am but a Maid, How short it takes to make a Brid…