All Are Of The Race Of God,

Who Can Mistake Great Thoughts? They Seize Upon The Mind; Arrest And Search, And Shake It; Bow The Tall Soul As By Wind; Rush Over It Like A River Reeds.

The Death-change Comes. Death Is Another Life. We Bow Our Heads At Going Out, We Think, And Enter Straight Another Golden Chamber Of The King's Larger Than This We Leave, And Lovelier. And Then In Shadowy Glimpses, Disconnect, The Story, Flower-like, Closes Thus Its Leaves. The Will Of God Is All In All. He Makes, Destroys, Remakes, For His Own Pleasure, All.

Wan Night, The Shadow Goer, Came Stepping In.

He Who Has Most Of Heart Knows Most Of Sorrow.

The Course Of Nature Seems A Course Of Death, And Nothingness The Whole Substantial Thing.