803 Who Court obtain within Himself Sees every Man a King— And Poverty of Monarchy Is an interior thing—

LXII A DROP fell on the apple tree Another on the roof; A half a dozen kissed the eaves, And made the gables laugh.

They shut me up in Prose— As when a little Girl They put me in the Closet— Because they liked me “still”— Still! Could themself have peeped…

Air has no Residence, no Neighbor… No Ear, no Door, No Apprehension of Another Oh, Happy Air! Ethereal Guest at e’en an Outcast…

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

874 They won’t frown always—some sweet… When I forget to tease— They’ll recollect how cold I look… And how I just said “Please.”

I cannot live with You— It would be Life— And Life is over there— Behind the Shelf The Sexton keeps the Key to—

The dying need but little, dear,— A glass of water’s all, A flower’s unobtrusive face To punctuate the wall, A fan, perhaps, a friend’s regret,

897 How fortunate the Grave— All Prizes to obtain— Successful certain, if at last, First Suitor not in vain.

The brain within its groove Runs evenly and true; But let a splinter swerve, ‘T were easier for you To put the water back