869 Because the Bee may blameless hum For Thee a Bee do I become List even unto Me. Because the Flowers unafraid

617 Don’t put up my Thread and Needle… I’ll begin to Sew When the Birds begin to whistle— Better Stitches—so—

148 All overgrown by cunning moss, All interspersed with weed, The little cage of “Currer Bell” In quiet “Haworth” laid.

83 Heart, not so heavy as mine Wending late home— As it passed my window Whistled itself a tune—

28 So has a Daisy vanished From the fields today— So tiptoed many a slipper To Paradise away—

395 Reverse cannot befall That fine Prosperity Whose Sources are interior— As soon—Adversity

131 Besides the Autumn poets sing A few prosaic days A little this side of the snow And that side of the Haze—

769 One and One—are One— Two—be finished using— Well enough for schools— But for minor Choosing—

Longing is like the Seed That wrestles in the Ground, Believing if it intercede It shall at length be found. The Hour, and the Clime -

517 He parts Himself—like Leaves— And then—He closes up— Then stands upon the Bonnet Of Any Buttercup—

22 All these my banners be. I sow my pageantry In May— It rises train by train—

522 Had I presumed to hope— The loss had been to Me A Value—for the Greatness’ Sake— As Giants—gone away—