The bustle in a house The morning after death Is solemnest of industries Enacted upon earth,— The sweeping up the heart,

High from the earth I heard a bir… He trod upon the trees As he esteemed them trifles, And then he spied a breeze, And situated softly

“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…

998 Best Things dwell out of Sight The Pearl—the Just—Our Thought. Most shun the Public Air Legitimate, and Rare—

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

752 So the Eyes accost—and sunder In an Audience— Stamped—occasionally—forever— So may Countenance

87 A darting fear—a pomp—a tear— A waking on a morn To find that what one waked for, Inhales the different dawn.

322 There came a Day at Summer’s full… Entirely for me— I thought that such were for the… Where Resurrections—be—

My nosegays are for captives; Dim, long-expectant eyes, Fingers denied the plucking, Patient till paradise. To such, if they should whisper

977 Besides this May We know There is Another— How fair

782 There is an arid Pleasure— As different from Joy— As Frost is different from Dew— Like element—are they—