Stars Which Stand As Thick As Dewdrops

Burn To Be Great, Pay Not Thy Praise To Lofty Things Alone. The Plains Are Everlasting As The Hills, The Bard Cannot Have Two Pursuits; Aught Else Comes On The Mind With The Like Shock As Though Two Worlds Had Gone To War, And Met In Air.

And These Are Joys, Like Beauty, But Skin Deep.

Love Spends His All, And Still Hath Store.

The Truth Is Perilous Never To The True, Nor Knowledge To The Wise; And To The Fool, And To The False, Error And Truth Alike, Error Is Worse Than Ignorance.

The Death-change Comes. Death Is Another Life. We Bow Our Heads At Going Out, We Think, And Enter Straight Another Golden Chamber Of The King's Larger Than This We Leave, And Lovelier. And Then In Shadowy Glimpses, Disconnect, The Story, Flower-like, Closes Thus Its Leaves. The Will Of God Is All In All. He Makes, Destroys, Remakes, For His Own Pleasure, All.