373 I’m saying every day “If I should be a Queen, tomorrow… I’d do this way— And so I deck, a little,

690 Victory comes late— And is held low to freezing lips— Too rapt with frost To take it—

Ample make this bed. Make this bed with awe; In it wait till judgment break Excellent and fair. Be its mattress straight,

493 The World—stands—solemner—to me— Since I was wed—to Him— A modesty befits the soul That bears another’s—name—

The cricket sang, And set the sun, And workmen finished, one by one, Their seam the day upon. The low grass loaded with the dew,

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

969 He who in Himself believes— Fraud cannot presume— Faith is Constancy’s Result— And assumes—from Home—

887 We outgrow love, like other things And put it in the Drawer— Till it an Antique fashion shows— Like Costumes Grandsires wore.

76 Exultation is the going Of an inland soul to sea, Past the houses—past the headlands… Into deep Eternity—

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…

892 Who occupies this House? A Stranger I must judge Since No one know His Circumstan… ’Tis well the name and age