Lost, Lost! One Moment Knelled The Woe

Truth Is Truth Howe'er It Strike.

O Never Star Was Lost; Here We All Aspire To Heaven And There Is Heaven Above Us. If I Stoop Into A Dark Tremendous Sea Of Cloud, It Is But For A Time; I Press God's Lamp Close To My Breast; Its Splendor Soon Or Late Will Pierce The Gloom. I Shall Emerge Some Day.

God Is The Perfect Poet, Who In His Person Acts His Own Creations.

Might She Have Loved Me? Just As Well She Might Have Hated, Who Can Tell!

Outside Are The Storms And Strangers: We — Oh, Close, Safe, Warm Sleep I And She, — I And She!