734 If He were living—dare I ask— And how if He be dead— And so around the Words I went— Of meeting them—afraid—

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

180 As if some little Arctic flower Upon the polar hem— Went wandering down the Latitudes Until it puzzled came

656 The name—of it—is “Autumn”— The hue—of it—is Blood— An Artery—upon the Hill— A Vein—along the Road—

The only ghost I ever saw Was dressed in mechlin,—so; He wore no sandal on his foot, And stepped like flakes of snow. His gait was soundless, like the b…

III SOUL, wilt thou toss again? By just such a hazard Hundreds have lost, indeed, But tens have won an all.

64 Some Rainbow—coming from the Fair… Some Vision of the World Cashmer… I confidently see! Or else a Peacock’s purple Train

It dropped so low in my regard I heard it hit the ground, And go to pieces on the stones At bottom of my mind; Yet blamed the fate that fractured…