388 Take your Heaven further on— This—to Heaven divine Has gone— Had You earlier blundered in Possibly, e’en You had seen

347 When Night is almost done— And Sunrise grows so near That we can touch the Spaces— It’s time to smooth the Hair—

150 She died—this was the way she died… And when her breath was done Took up her simple wardrobe And started for the sun—

777 The Loneliness One dare not sound… And would as soon surmise As in its Grave go plumbing To ascertain the size—

934 That is solemn we have ended Be it but a Play Or a Glee among the Garret Or a Holiday

Remembrance has a Rear and Front… ’Tis something like a House - It has a Garret also For Refuse and the Mouse. Besides the deepest Cellar

563 I could not prove the Years had f… Yet confident they run Am I, from symptoms that are past And Series that are done—

924 Love—is that later Thing than Dea… More previous—than Life— Confirms it at its entrance—And Usurps it—of itself—

719 A South Wind—has a pathos Of individual Voice— As One detect on Landings An Emigrant’s address.

Much Madness is divinest Sense - To a discerning Eye - Much Sense– the starkest Madness… ’Tis the Majority In this, as All, prevail -

560 It knew no lapse, nor Diminuation… But large—serene— Burned on—until through Dissoluti… It failed from Men—

965 Denial—is the only fact Perceived by the Denied— Whose Will—a numb significance— The Day the Heaven died—

263 Is all that pins the Soul That stands for Deity, to Mine, Upon my side the Veil— Once witnessed of the Gauze—