468 The Manner of its Death When Certain it must die— ’Tis deemed a privilege to choose— ’Twas Major Andre’s Way—

Who were “the Father and the Son” We pondered when a child, And what had they to do with us And when portentous told With inference appalling

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—

729 Alter! When the Hills do— Falter! When the Sun Question if His Glory Be the Perfect One—

It is an honorable thought, And makes one lift one’s hat, As one encountered gentlefolk Upon a daily street, That we’ve immortal place,

697 I could bring You Jewels—had I a… But You have enough—of those— I could bring You Odors from St.… Colors—from Vera Cruz—

842 Good to hide, and hear 'em hunt! Better, to be found, If one care to, that is, The Fox fits the Hound—

Good night! which put the candle o… A jealous zephyr, not a doubt. Ah! friend, you little knew How long at that celestial wick The angels labored diligent;

383 Exhiliration—is within— There can no Outer Wine So royally intoxicate As that diviner Brand

433 Knows how to forget! But could It teach it? Easiest of Arts, they say When one learn how

789 On a Columnar Self— How ample to rely In Tumult—or Extremity— How good the Certainty