I taste a liquor never brewed
I tend my flowers for thee
I think I was enchanted
I think just how my shape will rise
I think the Hemlock likes to stand
I think the longest Hour of all
I think to Live – may be a Bliss
I thought the Train would never come
I took my Power in my Hand
I took one Draught of Life
I tried to think a lonelier Thing
“I want” – it pleaded – All it’s life
I was the slightest in the House
I watched the Moon around the House
I went to Heaven
I went to thank Her
I would distill a cup
If all the griefs I am to have
If any sink, assure that this
If anybody’s friend be dead
If ever the lid gets off my head
If He dissolve – then – there is nothing
If I can stop one Heart from breaking
If I could bribe them by a Rose
If I may have it, when it’s dead
If I should cease to bring a Rose
If I should n’t be alive
If I’m lost – now
If it had no pencil
If pain for peace prepares
If recollecting were forgetting
If she had been the Mistletoe
If the foolish, call them “flowers”
If this is “fading”
If What we could – were what we would
If you were coming in the Fall
If your Nerve, deny you
I’ll clutch – and clutch
I’ll send the feather from my Hat!
I’ll tell you how the Sun rose
I’m ceded – I’ve stopped being Theirs
I’m Nobody! Who are you?
I’m saying every day
I’m sorry for the Dead – Today
I’m the little “Heart’s Ease”!
I’m “wife” – I’ve finished that
Image of Light, Adieu
Impossibility, like Wine
In Ebon Box, when years have flown
In falling Timbers buried
In lands I never saw – they say
In rags mysterious as these
In snow thou comest
In this short Life
In thy long Paradise of Light
In Winter in my Room
Inconceivably solemn!
Is Bliss then, such Abyss
Is Immortality a bane
Is it dead – Find it
Is it true, dear Sue?
It always felt to me – a wrong
It came at last but prompter Death
It can’t be “Summer”!
It ceased to hurt me, though so slow
It did not surprise me
It don’t sound so terrible – quite – as it did
It dropped so low – in my Regard
It feels a shame to be Alive
It is an honorable Thought
It is easy to work when the soul is at play
It might be lonelier
It sifts from Leaden Sieves
It sounded as if the Streets were running
It tossed – and tossed
It troubled me as once I was
It was a quiet Way
It was given to me by the Gods
It was not Death, for I stood up
It was too late for Man
It will be Summer – eventually
It would have starved a Gnat
It would never be Common – more – I said
It would not know if it were spurned
It’s all I have to bring today
It’s coming – the postponeless Creature
It’s easy to invent a Life
It’s like the Light
It’s such a little thing to weep
It’s thoughts – and just One Heart
I’ve got an arrow here
I’ve heard an Organ talk, sometimes
I’ve known a Heaven, like a Tent
I’ve nothing else – to bring, You know
I’ve seen a Dying Eye
I Years had been from Home