Better By Far You Should Forget And

As A Tree My Sin Stands To Darken All Lands; Death Is The Fruit It Bore.

Why One Day In The Country Is Worth A Month In Town; Is Worth A Day And A Year Of The Dusty, Musty, Lag-last Fashion That Days Drone Elsewhere.

The Lilies Say: Behold How We Preach Without Words Of Purity.

For There Is No Friend Like A Sister In Calm Or Stormy Weather.

The Loves That Meet In Paradise Shall Cast Out Fear, And Paradise Hath Room For You And Me And All.