LXXXVIII HEAVEN is what I cannot reach! The apple on the tree, Provided it do hopeless hang, That “heaven” is, to me.

I years had been from home, And now, before the door, I dared not open, lest a face I never saw before Stare vacant into mine

An everywhere of silver, With ropes of sand To keep it from effacing The track called land.

577 If I may have it, when it’s dead, I’ll be contented—so— If just as soon as Breath is out It shall belong to me—

Is it too late to touch you, Dear… We this moment knew - Love Marine and Love terrene - Love celestial too -

730 Defrauded I a Butterfly— The lawful Heir—for Thee—

135 Water, is taught by thirst. Land—by the Oceans passed. Transport—by throe— Peace—by its battles told—

There is no frigate like a book To take us lands away, Nor any coursers like a page Of prancing poetry. This traverse may the poorest take