313 I should have been too glad, I se… Too lifted—for the scant degree Of Life’s penurious Round— My little Circuit would have sham…

797 By my Window have I for Scenery Just a Sea—with a Stem— If the Bird and the Farmer—deem i… The Opinion will serve—for them—

203 He forgot—and I—remembered— ’Twas an everyday affair— Long ago as Christ and Peter— “Warmed them” at the “Temple fire…

793 Grief is a Mouse— And chooses Wainscot in the Breas… For His Shy House— And baffles quest—

Who were “the Father and the Son” We pondered when a child, And what had they to do with us And when portentous told With inference appalling

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

993 We miss Her, not because We see— The Absence of an Eye— Except its Mind accompany Abridge Society

18 The Gentian weaves her fringes— The Maple’s loom is red— My departing blossoms Obviate parade.

784 Bereaved of all, I went abroad— No less bereaved was I Upon a New Peninsula— The Grave preceded me—

307 The One who could repeat the Summ… Were greater than itself—though H… Minutest of Mankind should be— And He—could reproduce the Sun—

8 There is a word Which bears a sword Can pierce an armed man— It hurls its barbed syllables

945 This is a Blossom of the Brain— A small—italic Seed Lodged by Design or Happening The Spirit fructified—

THE BAT is dun with wrinkled wi… Like fallow article, And not a song pervades his lips, Or none perceptible. His small umbrella, quaintly halve…