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Take all away from me
Take your Heaven further on
Taken from men – this morning
Talk with prudence to a Beggar
Tell all the Truth but tell it slant
Tell as a Marksman – were forgotten
That first Day, when you praised Me, Sweet
That I did always love
That it will never come again
That Love is all there is
The Angle of a Landscape
The Auctioneer of Parting
The Battle fought between the Soul
The Bee is not afraid of me
The Beggar Lad – dies early
The Bible is an antique Volume
The Bird must sing to earn the Crumb
The Birds begun at Four o’clock
The Black Berry – wears a Thorn in his side
The Body grows without
The Brain – is wider than the Sky
The Brain, within its Groove
The Bustle in a House
The Butterfly upon the Sky
The butterfly’s assumption-gown
The Chemical conviction
The Clouds their Backs together laid
The Clover’s simple Fame
The Crickets sang
The Daisy follows soft the Sun
The Dandelion’s pallid tube
The Day came slow – till Five o’clock
The Day grew small, surrounded tight
The Day that I was crowned
The Day undressed – Herself
The difference between Despair
The distance that the dead have gone
The Dying need but little, Dear
The Fact that Earth is Heaven
The feet of people walking home
The Fingers of the Light
The first Day that I was a Life
The first Day’s Night had come
The Flower must not blame the Bee
The Future – never spoke
The Gentian weaves her fringe
The Grass so little has to do
The grave my little cottage is
The healed Heart shows its shallow scar
The Heart asks Pleasure – first
The Heart has many Doors
The Heart has narrow Banks
The Himmaleh was known to stoop
The Hollows round His eager Eyes
The Immortality she gave
The inundation of the Spring
The Judge is like the Owl
The Lady feeds Her little Bird
The largest Fire ever known
The last Night that She lived
The Life we have is very great
The Lightning playeth – all the while
The Loneliness One dare not sound
The longest day that God appoints
The Love a Life can show Below
The Luxury to apprehend

The Malay – took the Pearl
The Manner of its Death
The Martyr Poets – did not tell
The Moon is distant from the Sea
The Moon upon her fluent Route
The Moon was but a Chin of Gold
The Morning after Woe
The morns are meeker than they were
The most pathetic thing I do
The Mountain sat upon the Plain
The Mountains – grow unnoticed
The Murmur of a Bee
The Mushroom is the Elf of Plants
The name – of it – is “Autumn”
The Night was wide, and furnished scant
The One who could repeat the Summer day
The only Ghost I ever saw
The Outer – from the Inner
The Past is such a curious Creature
The pedigree of Honey
The Pile of Years is not so high
The Poets light but Lamps
The Products of my Farm are these
The Props assist the House
The Province of the Saved
The rainbow never tells me
The Red – Blaze – is the Morning
The reticent volcano keeps
The right to perish might be thought
The Robin is the One
The Robin’s my Criterion for Tune
The Rose did caper on her cheek
The Savior must have been
The Skies can’t keep their secret!
The Sky is low – the Clouds are mean
The Soul selects her own Society
The Soul that hath a Guest
The Soul unto itself
The Soul’s distinct connection
The Soul’s Superior instants
The Spider as an Artist
The Spider holds a Silver Ball
The spry Arms of the Wind
The Stars are old, that stood for me
The Stimulus, beyond the Grave
The Sun and Fog contested
The Sun is gay or stark
The Sun kept setting – setting – still
The Sun kept stooping – stooping – low!
The Sun went down – no Man looked on
The sweetest Heresy received
The Test of Love – is Death
The Things that never can come back
The Trees like Tassels – hit – and swung
The Truth – is stirless
The Voice that stands for Floods to me
The Well upon the Brook
The Whole of it came not at once
The Wind – tapped like a tired Man
The Wind begun to knead the Grass
The Wind didn’t come from the Orchard — today
The Wind took up the Northern Things
The Winters are so short
The World – feels Dusty
The Zeroes – taught us – Phosphorous