Let's Contend No More, Love, Strive Nor

To Me At Least Was Never Evening Yet, But Seemed Far Beautifuller Than Its Day.

The Devil, That Old Stager, Who Leads Downward, Perhaps, But Fiddles All The Way!

Believeth With The Life, The Pain Shall Stop.

So, Fall Asleep Love, Loved By Me... For I Know Love, I Am Loved By Thee.

I Hear You Reproach, "but Delay Was Best, For Their End Was A Crime." Oh, A Crime Will Do As Well, I Reply, To Serve For A Test As A Virtue Golden Through And Through, Sufficient To Vindicate Itself And Prove Its Worth At A Moment's View! . . . . . . Let A Man Contend To The Uttermost For His Life's Set Prize, Be It What It Will! The Counter Our Lovers Staked Was Lost As Surely As If It Were Lawful Coin; And The Sin I Impute To Each Frustrate Ghost Is-the Unlit Lamp And The Ungirt Loin, Though The End In Sight Was A Vice, I Say.