582 Inconceivably solemn! Things go gay Pierce—by the very Press Of Imagery—

673 The Love a Life can show Below Is but a filament, I know, Of that diviner thing That faints upon the face of Noon…

It dropped so low—in my Regard— I heard it hit the Ground— And go to pieces on the Stones At bottom of my Mind— Yet blamed the Fate that flung it…

1100 The last Night that She lived It was a Common Night Except the Dying—this to Us Made Nature different

Publication—is the Auction Of the Mind of Man— Poverty—be justifying For so foul a thing Possibly—but We—would rather

27 Morns like these—we parted— Noons like these—she rose— Fluttering first—then firmer To her fair repose.

296 One Year ago—jots what? God—spell the word! I—can’t— Was’t Grace? Not that— Was’t Glory? That—will do—

672 The Future—never spoke— Nor will He—like the Dumb— Reveal by sign—a syllable Of His Profound To Come—

972 Unfulfilled to Observation— Incomplete—to Eye— But to Faith—a Revolution In Locality—

990 Not all die early, dying young— Maturity of Fate Is consummated equally In Ages, or a Night—

931 Noon—is the Hinge of Day— Evening—the Tissue Door— Morning—the East compelling the s… Till all the World is ajar—

302 Like Some Old fashioned Miracle When Summertime is done— Seems Summer’s Recollection And the Affairs of June