403 The Winters are so short— I’m hardly justified In sending all the Birds away— And moving into Pod—

997 Crumbling is not an instant’s Act A fundamental pause Dilapidation’s processes Are organized Decays.

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

I know a place where summer strive… With such a practised frost, She each year leads her daisies ba… Recording briefly, ‘Lost.’ But when the south wind stirs the…

’Twas comfort in her Dying Room To hear the living Clock— A short relief to have the wind Walk boldly up and knock— Diversion from the Dying Theme

934 That is solemn we have ended Be it but a Play Or a Glee among the Garret Or a Holiday

800 Two—were immortal twice— The privilege of few— Eternity—obtained—in Time— Reversed Divinity’—

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

400 A Tongue—to tell Him I am true! Its fee—to be of Gold— Had Nature—in Her monstrous Hous… A single Ragged Child—

The Butterfly’s Assumption Gown In Chrysoprase Apartments hung This afternoon put on— How condescending to descend And be of Buttercups the friend

789 On a Columnar Self— How ample to rely In Tumult—or Extremity— How good the Certainty