The Stillness Of October Gold Went Out

For When A Woman Is Left Too Much Alone, Sooner Or Later She Begins To Think; And No Man Knows What Then She May Discover.

I Cannot Find My Way: There Is No Star In All The Shrouded Heavens Anywhere

No Matter What We Are, And What We Sing, Time Finds A Withered Leaf In Every Laurel

Love Must Have Wings To Fly Away From Love, And To Fly Back Again.

For Through It All--above, Beyond It All-- I Know The Far-sent Message Of The Years, I Feel The Coming Glory Of The Light.