VER. 3-6, originally thus:--

               Chaste Goddess of the woods,

Nymphs of the vales, and Naiads of the floods,

Lead me through arching bowers, and glimmering glades.

Unlock your springs, &c.



Winter is good — his Hoar Delights

Italic flavor yield

To Intellects inebriate

With Summer, or the World —

Generic as a Quarry

And hearty — as a Rose —

Invited with Asperity

But welcome...


Winter under cultivation

Is as arable as Spring.


I FIX mine eye on thine, and there
Pity my picture burning in thine eye;

My picture drown'd in a transparent tear,
When I look lower I espy;...


Witchcraft has not a Pedigree

'Tis early as our Breath

And mourners meet it going out

The moment of our death —


Witchcraft was hung, in History,

But History and I

Find all the Witchcraft that we need

Around us, every Day —


I hide myself within my flower,

That wearing on your breast,

You, unsuspecting, wear me too —

And angels know the rest.

I hide myself within my...


 * * *

With happiness stretchd across the hills

In a cloud that dewy sweetness distills

With a blue sky spread over with wings

And a mild sun that mounts & sings


With Pinions of Disdain

The soul can farther fly

Than any feather specified

in Ornithology —

It wafts this sordid Flesh

Beyond its dull — control

And during its electric gale —

The body is a...