I think Heaven will not be as good as earth, unless it bring with it that sweet power to remember, which is the staple of Heaven here.

I'll tell you how the sun rose, a ribbon at a time. The steeples swam in amethyst, The news like squirrels ran. The hills untied their bonnets, The bobolinks begun. Then I said softly to myself, "That must have been the sun!

Bring me the sunset in a cup.

We both believe, and disbelieve a hundred times an hour, which keeps believing nimble.

I would like more sisters, that the taking out of one, might not leave such stillness.

The soul selects her own society, Then shuts the door; On her divine majority Obtrude no more.

Love is like the wild rose-briar; Friendship like the holly-tree. The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms, But which will bloom most constantly? The wild rose-briar is sweet in spring ,Its summer blossoms scent the air; Yet wait till winter comes again, And who will call the wild-briar fair? Then, scorn the silly rose-wreath now, And deck thee with holly's sheen, That, when December blights thy brow, He still may leave thy garland green.