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61. Could hope inspect her basis

62. Could mortal lip divine

63. The crickets sang

64. Crumbling is not an instant's act

65. Dare you see a soul at the white heat?

66. The day she goes

67. The day undressed herself

68. The days that we can spare

69. Dear March - come in

70. Death is the supple suitor

71. Death warrants are supposed to be

72. Declaiming waters none may dread

73. A deed knocks first at thought

74. A dew sufficed itself

75. A dew sufficed itself

76. Did the harebell loose her girdle

77. The ditch is dear to the drunken man

78. I dreaded that first robin, so

79. Dreams are the subtle dower

80. The drop that wrestles in the sea