The Tint I cannot take — is best —

Publication — is the Auction

Because I could not stop for Death —

I many times thought peace had come

Drama's Vitallest Expression is the Common Day

It dropped so low — in my Regard —

All but Death, can be Adjusted —

My Life had stood — a Loaded Gun —

Presentiment — is that long Shadow — on the Lawn

This Consciousness that is aware

Nature and God — I neither knew

Truth — is as old as God —

Split the Lark — and you'll find the Music

The Soul's distinct connection

A narrow Fellow in the Grass

Crumbling is not an instant's Act

Lest this be Heaven indeed

I never saw a Moor —

The Soul should always stand ajar

Further in Summer than the Birds