Earth Being So Good, Would Heaven Seem

The Body Sprang At Once To The Height, And Stayed; But The Soul,-no!

Shun Death, Is My Advice.

Hatred And Cark And Care, What Place Have They / In Yon Blue Liberality Of Heaven?.

That Moment She Was Mine, Mine, Fair, Perfectly Pure And Good: I Found A Thing To Do, And All Her Hair In One Long Yellow String I Wound Three Times Her Little Throat Around, And Strangled Her. No Pain Felt She; I Am Quite Sure She Felt No Pain. As A Shut Bud That Holds A Bee, I Warily Oped Her Lids: Again Laughed The Blue Eyes Without A Stain. And I Untightened The Next Tress About Her Neck; Her Cheek Once More Blushed Bright Beneath My Burning Kiss . . .

Where The Apple Reddens Never Pry - Lest We Lose Our Edens, Eve And I.