Silence is all we dread. There’s Ransom in a Voice - But Silence is Infinity. Himself have not a face.

302 Like Some Old fashioned Miracle When Summertime is done— Seems Summer’s Recollection And the Affairs of June

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

On my volcano grows the Grass A meditative spot - An acre for a Bird to choose Would be the General thought - How red the Fire rocks below -

256 If I’m lost—now That I was found— Shall still my transport be— That once—on me—those Jasper Gate…

951 As Frost is best conceived By force of its Result— Affliction is inferred By subsequent effect—

501 This World is not Conclusion. A Species stands beyond— Invisible, as Music— But positive, as Sound—

So much of Heaven has gone from E… That there must be a Heaven If only to enclose the Saints To Affidavit given. The Missionary to the Mole

566 A Dying Tiger—moaned for Drink— I hunted all the Sand— I caught the Dripping of a Rock And bore it in my Hand—

448 This was a Poet—It is That Distills amazing sense From ordinary Meanings— And Attar so immense

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…