Love Spends His All, And Still Hath

Mind And Night Will Meet, Though In Silence, Like Forbidden Lovers.

We Live In Deeds, Not Years; In Thoughts, Not Figures On A Dial. We Should Count Time By Heart Throbs. He Most Lives Who Thinks Most, Feels The Noblest, Acts The Best.

Poetry Is Itself A Thing Of God; He Made His Prophets Poets; And The More We Feel Of Poesie Do We Become Like God In Love And Power,-under-makers.

One Thought Settles A Life, An Immortality.

Where Doubt There Truth Is - 'tis Her Shadow.