So Dear I Love Him, That With

Danger Will Wink On Opportunity.

Who Aspires Must Down As Low As High He Soar'd.

To-morrow To Fresh Woods, And Pastures New.

They, Looking Back, All The Eastern Side Beheld Of Paradise, So Late Their Happy Seat, Waved Over By That Flaming Brand, The Gate With Dreadful Faces Thronged And Fiery Arms: Some Natural Tears They Dropped, But Wiped Them Soon; The World Was All Before Them, Where To Choose Their Place Of Rest, And Providence Their Guide; They, Hand In Hand, With Wandering Steps And Slow, Through Eden Took Their Solitary Way.

Where More Is Meant Than Meets The Ear.