778 This that would greet—an hour ago— Is quaintest Distance—now— Had it a Guest from Paradise— Nor glow, would it, nor bow—

804 No Notice gave She, but a Change… No Message, but a Sigh— For Whom, the Time did not suffic… That She should specify.

908 ’Tis Sunrise—Little Maid—Hast T… No Station in the Day? ’Twas not thy wont, to hinder so— Retrieve thine industry—

854 Banish Air from Air— Divide Light if you dare— They’ll meet While Cubes in a Drop

Revolution is the Pod Systems rattle from When the Winds of Will are stirre… Excellent is Bloom But except its Russet Base

726 We thirst at first—’tis Nature’s… And later—when we die— A little Water supplicate— Of fingers going by—

173 A fuzzy fellow, without feet, Yet doth exceeding run! Of velvet, is his Countenance, And his Complexion, dun!

28 So has a Daisy vanished From the fields today— So tiptoed many a slipper To Paradise away—

457 Sweet—safe—Houses—Glad—gay—House… Sealed so stately tight— Lids of Steel—on Lids of Marble— Locking Bare feet out—

198 An awful Tempest mashed the air— The clouds were gaunt, and few— A Black—as of a Spectre’s Cloak Hid Heaven and Earth from view.

997 Crumbling is not an instant’s Act A fundamental pause Dilapidation’s processes Are organized Decays.

Not “Revelation”—'tis—that waits, But our unfurnished eyes—