I Sing The Progress Of A Deathless

For Love All Love Of Other Sights Controls And Makes One Little Room An Everywhere

There Is Nothing That God Hath Established In A Constant Course Of Nature, And Which Therefore Is Done Every Day, But Would Seem A Miracle, And Exercise Our Admiration, If It Were Done But Once.

Ask Not For Whom The Bell Tolls; It Tolls For Thee

All Whom War, Dearth, Age, Agues, Tyrannies, Despair, Law, Chance, Hath Slain.

In Heaven It Is Always Autumn.