348 I would not paint—a picture— I’d rather be the One It’s bright impossibility To dwell—delicious—on—

The Devil—had he fidelity Would be the best friend— Because he has ability— But Devils cannot mend— Perfidy is the virtue

636 The Way I read a Letter’s—this— ’Tis first—I lock the Door— And push it with my fingers—next— For transport it be sure—

811 The Veins of other Flowers The Scarlet Flowers are Till Nature leisure has for Terms As “Branch,” and “Jugular.”

735 Upon Concluded Lives There’s nothing cooler falls— Than Life’s sweet Calculations— The mixing Bells and Palls—

805 This Bauble was preferred of Bees… By Butterflies admired At Heavenly—Hopeless Distances— Was justified of Bird—

555 Trust in the Unexpected— By this—was William Kidd Persuaded of the Buried Gold— As One had testified—

26 It’s all I have to bring today— This, and my heart beside— This, and my heart, and all the fi… And all the meadows wide—

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

930 There is a June when Corn is cut And Roses in the Seed— A Summer briefer than the first But tenderer indeed

How Human Nature dotes On what it can’t detect. The moment that a Plot is plumbed Prospective is extinct - Prospective is the friend

849 The good Will of a Flower The Man who would possess Must first present Certificate

It struck me every day The lightning was as new As if the cloud that instant slit And let the fire through. It burned me in the night,