Art Is A Man's Nature; Nature Is

Grief Hallows Hearts, Even While It Ages Heads.

Night Comes, World-jewelled, . . . The Stars Rush Forth In Myriads As To Wage War With The Lines Of Darkness; And The Moon, Pale Ghost Of Night, Comes Haunting The Cold Earth After The Sun's Red Sea-death--quietless.

For Ivy Climbs The Crumbling Hall To Decorate Decay.

Every Believer Is God's Miracle.

Music Lives Within Thy Lips Like A Nightingale In Roses.