A Dim Capacity For Wings Demeans The

I See Thee Better In The Dark, I Do Not Need A Light. The Love Of Thee A Prism Be Excelling Violet. I See Thee Better For The Years That Hunch Themselves Between, The Miner’s Lamp Sufficient Be To Nullify The Mine. And In The Grave I See Thee Best— Its Little Panels Be A-glow, All Ruddy With The Light I Held So High For Thee! What Need Of Day To Those Whose Dark Hath So Surpassing Sun, It Seem It Be Continually At The Meridian?

I Could Not Stop For Death And He Did Not Stop For Me.

Some Arrows Slay But Whom They Strike - But This Slew All But Him - Who So Appareled His Escape - Too Trackless For A Tomb

A Letter Is A Joy Of Earth - It Is Denied The Gods

The Crime, From Us, Is Hidden, [though] He Is Presumed To Know.