Death Forerunneth Love To Win "sweetest Eyes

And Wilt Thou Have Me Fashion Into Speech The Love I Bear Thee, Finding Words Enough, And Hold The Torch Out, While The Winds Are Rough, Between Our Faces, To Cast Light On Each? - I Dropt It At Thy Feet. I Cannot Teach My Hand To Hold My Spirits So Far Off From Myself--me--that I Should Bring Thee Proof In Words, Of Love Hid In Me Out Of Reach. Nay, Let The Silence Of My Womanhood Commend My Woman-love To Thy Belief, - Seeing That I Stand Unwon, However Wooed, And Rend The Garment Of My Life, In Brief, By A Most Dauntless, Voiceless Fortitude, Lest One Touch Of This Heart Convey Its Grief.

A Woman's Pity Sometimes Makes Her Mad.

Children Use The Fist Until They Are Of Age To Use The Brain.

Anybody Is Qualified, According To Everybody, For Giving Opinions Upon Poetry. It Is Not So In Chemistry And Mathematics. Nor Is It So, I Believe, In Whist And The Polka. But Then These Are More Serious Things.

Quick-loving Hearts ... May Quickly Loathe.