The Dearest Ones Of Time, The Strongest

Our Journey Had Advanced; Our Feet Were Almost Come To That Odd Fork In Being's Road, Eternity By Term.

How Strange That Nature Does Not Knock, And Yet Does Not Intrude!

It Is Easy To Work When The Soul Is At Play.

To Die Before One Fears To Die May Be A Boon.

A Charm Invests A Face Imperfectly Beheld,— The Lady Dare Not Lift Her Veil For Fear It Be Dispelled. But Peers Beyond Her Mesh, And Wishes, And Denies,— Lest Interview Annul A Want That Image Satisfies.