390 It’s coming—the postponeless Crea… It gains the Block—and now—it gai… Chooses its latch, from all the ot… Enters—with a “You know Me—Sir”?

562 Conjecturing a Climate Of unsuspended Suns— Adds poignancy to Winter— The Shivering Fancy turns

455 Triumph—may be of several kinds— There’s Triumph in the Room When that Old Imperator—Death— By Faith

29 If those I loved were lost The Crier’s voice would tell me— If those I loved were found The bells of Ghent would ring—

Wild Nights! Wild Nights! Were I with thee, Wild Nights should be Our luxury! Futile the winds

There is another sky, Ever serene and fair, And there is another sunshine, Though it be darkness there; Never mind faded forests, Austin,

191 The Skies can’t keep their secret… They tell it to the Hills— The Hills just tell the Orchards— And they—the Daffodils!

395 Reverse cannot befall That fine Prosperity Whose Sources are interior— As soon—Adversity

To flee from memory Had we the Wings Many would fly Inured to slower things Birds with surprise

831 Dying! To be afraid of thee One must to thine Artillery Have left exposed a Friend— Than thine old Arrow is a Shot