Earth Is Crammed With Heavens.

The Common Problem, Yours, Mine, Everyone's Is ? Not To Fancy What Were Fair In Life Provided It Could Be ? But, Finding First What May Be, Then Find How To Make It Fair Up To Our Means.

But How Carve Way I' The Life That Lies Before, If Bent On Groaning Ever For The Past?

How Very Hard It Is To Be A Christian!

Ah, But A Man's Reach Should Exceed His Grasp, Or What's A Heaven For?

I See My Way As Birds Their Trackless Way. I Shall Arrive,- What Time, What Circuit First, I Ask Not; But Unless God Send His Hail Or Blinding Fire-balls, Sleet Or Stifling Snow, In Some Time, His Good Time, I Shall Arrive: He Guides Me And The Bird. In His Good Time.