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

109 By a flower—By a letter— By a nimble love— If I weld the Rivet faster— Final fast—above—

689 The Zeroes—taught us—Phosphorous— We learned to like the Fire By playing Glaciers—when a Boy— And Tinder—guessed—by power

There’s a certain Slant of light, Winter Afternoons— That oppresses, like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes— Heavenly Hurt, it gives us—

I breathed enough to learn the tri… And now, removed from air, I simulate the breath so well, That one, to be quite sure The lungs are stirless, must desce…

MINE enemy is growing old, I have at last revenge. The palate of the hate departs; If any would avenge, Let him be quick, the viand flits,

634 You’ll know Her—by Her Foot— The smallest Gamboge Hand With Fingers—where the Toes shoul… Would more affront the Sand—

824 [first version] The Wind begun to knead the Grass… As Women do a Dough— He flung a Hand full at the Plain…

888 When I have seen the Sun emerge From His amazing House— And leave a Day at every Door A Deed, in every place—