A Courteous, Yet Harrowing Grace, As Guest,

To Live Is So Startling It Leaves Little Time For Anything Else.

The Hearts That Never Lean Must Fall.

I Cannot Help Esteem The 'bird Within The Hand' Superior To The One The 'bush' May Yield Me Or May Not Too Late To Choose Again

We Trust In Plumed Procession For Such The Angels Go Rank After Rank, With Even Feet/and Uniforms Of Snow.

God's Little Blond Blessing We Have Long Deemed You, And Hope His So-called Will Will Not Compel Him To Revoke You.