There Is No Ghost So Difficult To

The Pleased Sea On A White-breasted Shore-- A Shore That Wears On Her Alluring Brows Rare Shells, Far Brought, The Love-gifts Of The Sea, That Blushed A Tell-tale.

The Sea Complains Upon A Thousand Shores.

The Spot Of Ground On Which A Man Has Stood Is Forever Interesting To Him.

Yet Through All, We Know This Tangled Skein Is In The Hands Of One, Who Sees The End From The Beginning: He Shall Unravel All.

In My Garden I Spend My Days, In My Library I Spend My Nights. My Interests Are Divided Between My Geraniums And My Books. With The Flower I Am In The Present; With The Book I Am In The Past.