Guess Now Who Holds Thee?'--'death,' I Said.

Earth's Crammed With Heaven, And Every Common Bush Afire With God: But Only He Who Sees Takes Off His Shoes.

Will That Light Come Again, As Now These Tears Come...falling Hot And Real!

You Believe In God, For Your Part?--that He Who Makes Can Make Good Things From Ill Things, Best From Worst, As Men Plant Tulips Upon Dunghills When They Wish Them Finest.

You Were Made Perfectly To Be Loved - And Surely I Have Loved You, In The Idea Of You, My Whole Life Long.

If I Leave All For Thee, Wilt Thou Exchange And Be All To Me?