What Are Ye Orbs? The Words Of

And These Are Joys, Like Beauty, But Skin Deep.

Prayer Is The Spirit Speaking Truth To Truth.

Dewdrops, Nature's Tears, Which She Sheds In Her Own Breast For The Fair Which Die. The Sun Insists On Gladness; But At Night, When He Is Gone, Poor Nature Loves To Weep.

See The Gold Sunshine Patching, And Streaming And Streaking Across The Gray-green Oaks; And Catching, By Its Soft Brown Beard, The Moss.

Wan Night, The Shadow Goer, Came Stepping In.