932 My best Acquaintances are those With Whom I spoke no Word— The Stars that stated come to Tow… Esteemed Me never rude

437 Prayer is the little implement Through which Men reach Where Presence—is denied them. They fling their Speech

558 But little Carmine hath her face— Of Emerald scant—her Gown— Her Beauty—is the love she doth— Itself—exhibit—Mine&md ash;

763 He told a homely tale And spotted it with tears— Upon his infant face was set The Cicatrice of years—

104 Where I have lost, I softer tread… I sow sweet flower from garden bed… I pause above that vanished head And mourn.

735 Upon Concluded Lives There’s nothing cooler falls— Than Life’s sweet Calculations— The mixing Bells and Palls—

705 Suspense—is Hostiler than Death— Death—tho’soever Broad, Is just Death, and cannot increas… Suspense—does not conclude –

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

815 The Luxury to apprehend The Luxury 'twould be To look at Thee a single time An Epicure of Me

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

596 When I was small, a Woman died— Today—her Only Boy Went up from the Potomac— His face all Victory

139 Soul, Wilt thou toss again? By just such a hazard Hundreds have lost indeed— But tens have won an all—

103 I have a King, who does not speak… So—wondering—thro’ the hours meek I trudge the day away— Half glad when it is night, and sl…