Love Is A Bodily Shape; And Christian

Gone Are The Living, But The Dead Remain, And Not Neglected; For A Hand Unseen, Scattering Its Bounty Like A Summer Rain, Still Keeps Their Graves And Their Remembrance Green.

Love Is A Bodily Shape; And Christian Works Are No More Than Animate Faith And Love, As Flowers Are The Animate Springtide.

It Is Foolish To Pretend That One Is Fully Recovered From A Disappointed Passion. Such Wounds Always Leave A Scar.

Art Is Long, And Time Is Fleeting.

The Day Is Cold, And Dark, And Dreary; It Rains, And The Wind In Never Weary; The Vine Still Clings To The Mouldering Wall, But At Every Gust The Dead Leaves Fall, And The Day Is Dark And Dreary.