O Fateful Flower Beside The Rill- The

And The Guelder Rose In A Great Stillness Dropped, And Ever Dropped, Her Wealth About Her Feet.

O Fateful Flower Beside The Rill- The Daffodil, The Daffodil!

O Sleep, We Are Beholden To Thee, Sleep; Thou Bearest Angels To Us In The Night, Saints Out Of Heaven With Palms. Seen By Thy Light Sorrow Is Some Old Tale That Goeth Not Deep; Love Is A Pouting Child.

From Henceforth Thou Shalt Learn That There Is Love To Long For, Pureness To Desire, A Mount Of Consecration It Were Good To Scale.

I Have Lived Life Long Enough To Thank God That All My Prayers Have Not Been Answered