470 I am alive—I guess— The Branches on my Hand Are full of Morning Glory— And at my finger’s end—

480 “Why do I love” You, Sir? Because— The Wind does not require the Gra… To answer—Wherefore when He pass

372 I know lives, I could miss Without a Misery— Others—whose instant’s wanting— Would be Eternity—

The Beggar at the Door for Fame Were easily supplied But Bread is that Diviner thing Disclosed to be denied

“Sic transit gloria mundi,” “How doth the busy bee,” “Dum vivimus vivamus,” I stay mine enemy! Oh “veni, vidi, vici!”

1545 The Bible is an antique Volume— Written by faded men At the suggestion of Holy Spectre… Subjects—Bethlehem&mdash ;

772 The hallowing of Pain Like hallowing of Heaven, Obtains at a corporeal cost— The Summit is not given

878 The Sun is gay or stark According to our Deed. If Merry, He is merrier— If eager for the Dead

719 A South Wind—has a pathos Of individual Voice— As One detect on Landings An Emigrant’s address.

113 Our share of night to bear— Our share of morning— Our blank in bliss to fill Our blank in scorning—

78 A poor—torn heart—a tattered heart… That sat it down to rest— Nor noticed that the Ebbing Day Flowed silver to the West—

549 That I did always love I bring thee Proof That till I loved I never lived—Enough—

257 Delight is as the flight— Or in the Ratio of it, As the Schools would say— The Rainbow’s way—

827 The Only News I know Is Bulletins all Day From Immortality. The Only Shows I see—