Ah, Love, - You Are My Unutterable

I See My Way As Birds Their Trackless Way. I Shall Arrive,- What Time, What Circuit First, I Ask Not; But Unless God Send His Hail Or Blinding Fire-balls, Sleet Or Stifling Snow, In Some Time, His Good Time, I Shall Arrive: He Guides Me And The Bird. In His Good Time.

'tis Well Averred, A Scientific Faith's Absurd.

What Of Soul Was Left, I Wonder, When The Kissing Had To Stop?

Are There Not, Dear Michael, Two Points In The Adventure Of The Diver,- One, When A Beggar He Prepares To Plunge; One, When A Prince He Rises With His Pearl? Festus, I Plunge.

But How Carve Way I' The Life That Lies Before, If Bent On Groaning Ever For The Past?