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Victory comes late
Volcanoes be in Sicily


Wait till the Majesty of Death
“Was not” was all the statement
Water makes many Beds
Water, is taught by thirst
We – Bee and I – live by the quaffing
We Cover Thee – Sweet Face
We do not know the time we lose
We do not play on Graves
We don’t cry – Tim and I
We dream – it is good we are dreaming
We grow accustomed to the Dark
We introduce ourselves
We knew not that we were to live
We learn it in Retreating
We learned the Whole of Love
We like a Hairbreadth ‘scape
We lose – because we win
We met as Sparks – Diverging Flints
We miss a Kinsman more
We miss Her, not because We see
We never know how high we are
We never know we go when we are going
We outgrow love, like other things
We play at Paste
We pray – to Heaven
We see – Comparatively
We should not mind so small a flower
We shun it ere it comes
We talked as Girls do
We talked with each other about each other
We thirst at first – ‘tis Nature’s Act
We’ll pass without the parting
Went up a year this evening!
Were it to be the last
What care the Dead, for Chanticleer
What I see not, I better see
What if I say I shall not wait!
What Inn is this
What is – “Paradise”
What mystery pervades a well!
What shall I do – it whimpers so
What shall I do when the Summer troubles
What Soft – Cherubic Creatures
What tenements of clover
What would I give to see his face?
Whatever it is – she has tried it
When a Lover is a Beggar
When Bells stop ringing – Church – begins
When Diamonds are a Legend
When Etna basks and purrs
When I count the seeds
When I have seen the Sun emerge
When I hoped – I feared
When I hoped – I recollect
When I was small, a Woman died
When Memory is full
When Night is almost done
When One has given up One’s life
When Roses cease to bloom, Sir
When the Astronomer stops seeking
When they come back – if Blossoms do
When we have ceased to care
When we stand on the tops of Things
Where bells no more affright the morn
Where every Bird is bold to go
Where I have lost, I softer tread
Where Ships of Purple – gently toss
Whether my bark went down at sea
Whether they have forgotten

Which is best? Heaven
Which is the best – the Moon or the Crescent?
While Asters
While “it” is alive
While we were fearing it, it came
Who Court obtain within Himself
Who goes to dine must take his Feast
Who has not found the Heaven – below
Who is the East?
Who never lost, are unprepared
Who never wanted – maddest Joy
Who occupies this House?
Who were “the Father and the Son”
Whoever disenchants
Whole Gulfs – of Red, and Fleets – of Red
Whose are the little beds, I asked
Why – do they shut Me out of Heaven?
“Why do I love” You, Sir?
Wild Nights – Wild Nights!
Will there really be a “Morning”?
Winter is good – his Hoar Delights
Witchcraft has not a pedigree
Witchcraft was hung, in History
With Pinions of Disdain
With thee, in the Desert
Within my Garden, rides a Bird
Within my reach!
Within that little Hive
Without a smile – Without a throe
Without this – there is nought
Wolfe demanded during dying
Wonder – is not precisely knowing
Would you like Summer? Taste of ours


Yesterday is History
You cannot make Remembrance grow
You cannot put a Fire out
You Cannot take itself
You constituted Time
You know that Portrait in the Moon
You left me – Sire – two Legacies
You love me – you are sure
You said that I “was Great” – one Day
You see I cannot see – your lifetime –
You taught me Waiting with Myself
You’ll find – it when you try to die
You’ll know Her – by Her Foot
You’ll know it – as you know ‘tis Noon
Your Riches – taught me – Poverty
Your thoughts don’t have words every day
You’re right – “the way is narrow”