Do Ye Hear The Children Weeping, O

Mountain Gorses, Do Ye Teach Us . . . . That The Wisest Word Man Reaches Is The Humblest He Can Speak?

Love Me Sweet With All Thou Art Feeling, Thinking, Seeing; Love Me In The Lightest Part, Love Me In Full Being.

Souls Are Dangerous Things To Carry Straight Through All The Spilt Saltpetre Of This World.

I Love Thee With The Passion Put To Use In My Old Griefs, And With My Childhood's Faith. I Love Thee With A Love I Seemed To Lose With My Lost Saints,-i Love Thee With The Breath, Smiles, Tears, Of All My Life!-and, If God Choose, I Shall But Love Thee Better After Death.

Wall Must Get The Weather Stain Before They Grow The Ivy.