None But God Can Fill The Perfect

For Ivy Climbs The Crumbling Hall To Decorate Decay.

Death Is Another Life.

Life's But A Means Unto An End, That End, Beginning, Mean, And End To All Things--god.

Imagination Is The Air Of Mind.

See The Gold Sunshine Patching, And Streaming And Streaking Across The Gray-green Oaks; And Catching, By Its Soft Brown Beard, The Moss.