353 A happy lip—breaks sudden— It doesn’t state you how It contemplated—smiling— Just consummated—now—

704 672 No matter—now—Sweet— But when I’m Earl— Won’t you wish you’d spoken

312 Her—“last Poems”— Poets—ended— Silver—perished—with her Tongue— Not on Record—bubbled other,

632 The Brain—is wider than the Sky— For—put them side by side— The one the other will contain With ease—and You—beside—

941 The Lady feeds Her little Bird At rarer intervals— The little Bird would not dissent But meekly recognize

410 The first Day’s Night had come— And grateful that a thing So terrible—had been endured— I told my Soul to sing—

861 Split the Lark—and you’ll find th… Bulb after Bulb, in Silver rolled… Scantilly dealt to the Summer Mor… Saved for your Ear when Lutes be…

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

834 Before He comes we weigh the Time… ’Tis Heavy and ’tis Light. When He depart, an Emptiness Is the prevailing Freight.

’Twas Crisis—All the length had p… That dull—benumbing time There is in Fever or Event— And now the Chance had come— The instant holding in its claw

833 Perhaps you think me stooping I’m not ashamed of that Christ—stooped until He touched t… Do those at Sacrament