990 Not all die early, dying young— Maturity of Fate Is consummated equally In Ages, or a Night—

We like March, his shoes are purp… He is new and high; Makes he mud for dog and peddler, Makes he forest dry; Knows the adder’s tongue his comin…

60 Like her the Saints retire, In their Chapeaux of fire, Martial as she! Like her the Evenings steal

Your Riches—taught me—Poverty. Myself—a Millionaire In little Wealths, as Girls could… Till broad as Buenos Ayre— You drifted your Dominions—

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

61 Papa above! Regard a Mouse O’erpowered by the Cat! Reserve within thy kingdom

142 Whose are the little beds, I aske… Which in the valleys lie? Some shook their heads, and others… And no one made reply.

A narrow fellow in the grass Occasionally rides; You may have met him,—did you not, His notice sudden is. The grass divides as with a comb,

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

When Memory is full Put on the perfect Lid - This Morning’s finest syllable Presumptuous Evening said -

XLVII IS Heaven a physician? They say that He can heal; But medicine posthumous Is unavailable.

The Black Berry—wears a Thorn in… But no Man heard Him cry— He offers His Berry, just the sam… To Partridge—and to Boy— He sometimes holds upon the Fence…