And There Shall Be For Thee All

The Uttered Part Of A Man's Life, Let Us Always Repeat, Bears To The Unuttered, Unconscious Part A Small Unknown Proportion. He Himself Never Knows It, Much Less Do Others.

Talking Of Pleasure, This Moment I Was Writing With One Hand, And With The Other Holding To My Mouth A Nectarine - How Good How Fine. It Went Down All Pulpy, Slushy, Oozy, All Its Delicious Embonpoint Melted Down My Throat Like A Large, Beatified Strawberry.

I See A Lily On Thy Brow, With Anguish Moist And Fever Dew; And On Thy Cheek A Fading Rose Fast Withereth Too.

Call The World If You Please "the Vale Of Soul-making." Then You Will Find Out The Use Of The World.

To One Who Has Been Long In City Pent, ’tis Very Sweet To Look Into The Fair And Open Face Of Heaven, — To Breathe A Prayer Full In The Smile Of The Blue Firmament.