To Lose Ones Faith-surpass The Loss Of

One Need Not Be A Chamber To Be Haunted.

I Work To Drive The Awe Away, Yet Awe Impels The Work.

Grant Me, O Lord, A Sunny Mind-thy Windy Will To Bear!

Heaven Is So Far Of The Mind That Were The Mind Dissolved - The Site Of It By Architect Could Not Again Be Proved.

The Loneliness One Dare Not Sound -- And Would As Soon Surmise As In Its Grave Go Plumbing To Ascertain The Size -- The Loneliness Whose Worst Alarm Is Lest Itself Should See -- And Perish From Before Itself For Just A Scrutiny -- The Horror Not To Be Surveyed -- But Skirted In The Dark -- With Consciousness Suspended -- And Being Under Lock -- I Fear Me This -- Is Loneliness -- The Maker Of The Soul Its Caverns And Its Corridors Illuminate -- Or Seal