366 Although I put away his life— An Ornament too grand For Forehead low as mine, to wear… This might have been the Hand

673 The Love a Life can show Below Is but a filament, I know, Of that diviner thing That faints upon the face of Noon…

893 Drab Habitation of Whom? Tabernacle or Tomb— Or Dome of Worm— Or Porch of Gnome—

592 What care the Dead, for Chanticle… What care the Dead for Day? ’Tis late your Sunrise vex their… And Purple Ribaldry—of Morning

414 ’Twas like a Maelstrom, with a no… That nearer, every Day, Kept narrowing its boiling Wheel Until the Agony

727 Precious to Me—She still shall be… Though She forget the name I bear… The fashion of the Gown I wear— The very Color of My Hair—

515 No Crowd that has occurred Exhibit—I suppose That General Attendance That Resurrection—does—

460 I know where Wells grow’—Droughtl… Deep dug’—for Summer days’— Where Mosses go no more away’— And Pebble’—safely plays’—