354 From Cocoon forth a Butterfly As Lady from her Door Emerged—a Summer Afternoon— Repairing Everywhere—

528 Mine—by the Right of the White E… Mine—by the Royal Seal! Mine—by the sign in the Scarlet p… Bars—cannot conceal!

838 Impossibility, like Wine Exhilarates the Man Who tastes it; Possibility Is flavorless—Combine

306 The Soul’s Superior instants Occur to Her—alone— When friend—and Earth’s occasion Have infinite withdrawn—

529 I’m sorry for the Dead—Today— It’s such congenial times Old Neighbors have at fences— It’s time o’ year for Hay.

855 To own the Art within the Soul The Soul to entertain With Silence as a Company And Festival maintain

Yesterday is History, ’Tis so far away - Yesterday is Poetry - ’Tis Philosophy - Yesterday is mystery -

It was not death, for I stood up, And all the dead lie down; It was not night, for all the bell… Put out their tongues, for noon. It was not frost, for on my flesh

593 I think I was enchanted When first a sombre Girl— I read that Foreign Lady— The Dark—felt beautiful—

628 They called me to the Window, for “ ’Twas Sunset”—Some one said— I only saw a Sapphire Farm— And just a Single Herd—