301 I reason, Earth is short— And Anguish—absolute— And many hurt, But, what of that?

We like March, his shoes are purp… He is new and high; Makes he mud for dog and peddler, Makes he forest dry; Knows the adder’s tongue his comin…

For each ecstatic instant We must an anguish pay In keen and quivering ratio To the ectasty. For each beloved hour

657 I dwell in Possibility— A fairer House than Prose— More numerous of Windows— Superior—for Doors—

A Word dropped careless on a Page May stimulate an eye When folded in perpetual seam The Wrinkled Maker lie Infection in the sentence breeds

725 Where Thou art—that—is Home— Cashmere—or Calvary—the same— Degree—or Shame— I scarce esteem Location’s Name—

836 Truth—is as old as God— His Twin identity And will endure as long as He A Co-Eternity—

1670 In Winter in my Room I came upon a Worm— Pink, lank and warm— But as he was a worm

1035 Bee! I’m expecting you! Was saying Yesterday To Somebody you know That you were due—

397 When Diamonds are a Legend, And Diadems—a Tale— I Brooch and Earrings for Myself… Do sow, and Raise for sale—