MY cocoon tightens, colors tease, I 'm feeling for the air; A dim capacity for wings Degrades the dress I wear. A power of butterfly must be

256 If I’m lost—now That I was found— Shall still my transport be— That once—on me—those Jasper Gate…

She could not live upon the Past The Present did not know her And so she sought this sweet at la… And nature gently owned her The mother that has not a knell

Pain has an element of blank; It cannot recollect When it began, or if there were A day when it was not. It has no future but itself,

798 She staked her Feathers—Gained an… Debated—Rose again— This time—beyond the estimate Of Envy, or of Men—

963 A nearness to Tremendousness— An Agony procures— Affliction ranges Boundlessness— Vicinity to Laws

576 I prayed, at first, a little Girl… Because they told me to— But stopped, when qualified to gue… How prayer would feel—to me—

Perhaps I asked too large— I take—no less than skies— For Earths, grow thick as Berries, in my native town— My Basked holds—just—Firmaments—

I meant to find her when I came; Death had the same design; But the success was his, it seems, And the discomfit mine. I meant to tell her how I longed