Death Came With Friendly Care; The Opening

An Undevout Poet Is An Impossibility.

Death But Supplies The Oil For The Inextinguishable Lamp Of Life.

Brute Animals Have The Vowel Sounds; Man Only Can Utter Consonants.

Therefore All Seasons Shall Be Sweet To Thee, Whether The Summer Clothe The General Earth With Greenness, Or The Redbreast Sit And Sing Betwixt The Tufts Of Snow On The Bare Branch Of Mossy Apple Tree.

Silence Does Not Always Mark Wisdom.