The Exchange Of Sympathy For Gratitude Is

Whoso Loves, Believes In The Impossible

How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count The Ways.

I Love Thee Freely, As Men Strive For Right. I Love Thee Purely, As They Turn From Praise. I Love Thee With The Passion Put To Use

Souls Are Gregarious In A Sense, But No Soul Touches Another, As A General Rule.

God Keeps A Niche In Heaven, To Hold Our Idols; And Albeit He Brake Them To Our Faces, And Denied That Our Close Kisses Should Impair Their White,-- I Know We Shall Behold Them Raised, Complete, The Dust Swept From Their Beauty, Glorified, New Memnons Singing In The Great God-light.