New Angel Mine, Unhoped For In The

Every Age, Through Being Beheld Too Close, Is Ill-discerned By Those Who Have Not Lived Past It.

Most Illogical Irrational Nature Of Our Womanhood, That Blushes One Way, Feels Another Way, And Prays, Perhaps Another!

Two Human Loves Make One Divine.

Life, Struck Sharp On Death, Makes Awful Lightning.

And I Smiled To Think God's Greatness Flowed Around Our Incompleteness; Round Our Restlessness, His Rest.