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Of Neighbors and the SunWill be the one aware of DeathAnd that itself aloneIs traversing the intervalExperience betweenAnd most profound experimentAppointed unto Men—How adequate unto itselfIts properties shall beItself unto itself and noneShall make discovery.Adventure most unto itselfThe Soul condemned to be—Attended by a single HoundIts own identity.

The Thing so towering highWe could not grasp its segmentUnaided—Yesterday—This Morning’s finer Verdict—Makes scarcely worth the toil—A furrow—Our Cordillera—Our Apennine—a Knoll—Perhaps ’tis kindly—done us—The Anguish—and the loss—The wrenching—for His FirmamentThe Thing belonged to us—To spare these Striding SpiritsSome Morning of Chagrin—The waking in a Gnat’s—embrace—Our Giants—further on—

A Resonance of Emerald–A Rush of Cochineal–And every Blossom on the BushAdjusts its tumbled Head–The mail from Tunis, probably,An easy Morning’s Ride–

My premium—My Bliss—An Admiralty, less—A Sceptre—penniless—And Realms—just Dross—When Thrones accost my Hands—With ‘Me, Miss, Me’—I’ll unroll Thee—Dominions dowerless—beside this Grace—Election—Vote—The Ballots of Eternity, will show just that.

Except a perished creatureEntreat us tenderlyTo ponder little workmanshipsIn crayon or in wool,With ‘This was last her fingers did,’Industrious untilThe thimble weighed too heavy,The stitches stopped themselves,And then ‘t was put among the dustUpon the closet shelves.A book I have, a friend gave,Whose pencil, here and there,Had notched the place that pleased him,–At rest his…

Preferred against the MindBy—Paradox—the Mind itself—Presuming it to leadQuite Opposite—How ComplicateThe Discipline of Man—Compelling Him to Choose HimselfHis Preappointed Pain—