992 The Dust behind I strove to join Unto the Disk before— But Sequence ravelled out of Soun… Like Balls upon a Floor—

355 ’Tis Opposites—entice— Deformed Men—ponder Grace— Bright fires—the Blanketless— The Lost—Day’s face—

343 My Reward for Being, was This. My premium—My Bliss— An Admiralty, less— A Sceptre—penniless—

173 A fuzzy fellow, without feet, Yet doth exceeding run! Of velvet, is his Countenance, And his Complexion, dun!

Could Hope inspect her Basis Her Craft were done - Has a fictitious Charter Or it has none - Balked in the vastest instance

264 A Weight with Needles on the poun… To push, and pierce, besides— That if the Flesh resist the Heft… The puncture—coolly tries—

229 A Burdock—clawed my Gown— Not Burdock’s—blame— But mine— Who went too near

33 If recollecting were forgetting, Then I remember not. And if forgetting, recollecting, How near I had forgot.

604 Unto my Books—so good to turn— Far ends of tired Days— It half endears the Abstinence— And Pain—is missed—in Praise—

46 I keep my pledge. I was not called— Death did not notice me. I bring my Rose.

781 To wait an Hour—is long— If Love be just beyond— To wait Eternity—is short— If Love reward the end—