417 Is it dead—Find it— Out of sound—Out of sight— “Happy”? Which is wiser— You, or the Wind?

925 Struck, was I, not yet by Lightni… Lightning—lets away Power to perceive His Process With Vitality.

I had been hungry all the years– My noon had come, to dine– I, trembling, drew the table near And touched the curious wine. ‘T was this on tables I had seen

Death leaves Us homesick, who beh… Except that it is gone Are ignorant of its Concern As if it were not born. Through all their former Places,…

88 As by the dead we love to sit, Become so wondrous dear— As for the lost we grapple Tho’ all the rest are here—

Pink, small, and punctual, Aromatic, low, Covert in April, Candid in May, Dear to the moss,

723 It tossed—and tossed— A little Brig I knew—o’ertook by… It spun—and spun— And groped delirious, for Morn—

867 Escaping backward to perceive The Sea upon our place— Escaping forward, to confront His glittering Embrace—

It was not death, for I stood up, And all the dead lie down; It was not night, for all the bell… Put out their tongues, for noon. It was not frost, for on my flesh

828 The Robin is the One That interrupt the Morn With hurried—few—express Reports When March is scarcely on—

824 [first version] The Wind begun to knead the Grass… As Women do a Dough— He flung a Hand full at the Plain…

To die—takes just a little while— They say it doesn't hurt— It's only fainter—by degrees— And then—it's out of sight— A darker Ribbon—for a Day—