852 Apology for Her Be rendered by the Bee— Herself, without a Parliament Apology for Me.

312 Her—“last Poems”— Poets—ended— Silver—perished—with her Tongue— Not on Record—bubbled other,

402 I pay—in Satin Cash— You did not state—your price— A Petal, for a Paragraph It near as I can guess—

687 I’ll send the feather from my Hat… Who knows—but at the sight of that My Sovereign will relent? As trinket—worn by faded Child—

THE BAT is dun with wrinkled wi… Like fallow article, And not a song pervades his lips, Or none perceptible. His small umbrella, quaintly halve…

Publication—is the Auction Of the Mind of Man— Poverty—be justifying For so foul a thing Possibly—but We—would rather

33 If recollecting were forgetting, Then I remember not. And if forgetting, recollecting, How near I had forgot.

453 Love — thou art high — I cannot climb thee — But, were it Two — Who knows but we —

659 That first Day, when you praised… And said that I was strong— And could be mighty, if I liked— That Day—the Days among—

This is the land the sunset washes… These are the banks of the Yellow… Where it rose, or whither it rushe… These are the western mystery! Night after night her purple traff…

501 This World is not Conclusion. A Species stands beyond— Invisible, as Music— But positive, as Sound—