Her Hair That Lay Along Her Back

I Plucked A Honeysuckle Where The Hedge On High Is Quick With Thorn, And Climbing For The Prize, Was Torn, And Fouled My Feet In Quag-water; And By The Thorns And By The Wind The Blossom That I Took Was Thinn'd, And Yet I Found It Sweet And Fair.

Sometimes Thou Seem'st Not As Thyself Alone, But As The Meaning Of All Things That Are.

If God In His Wisdom Have Brought Closethe Day When I Must Die,that Day By Water Or Fire Or Airmy Feet Shall Fall In The Destined Snarewherever My Road May Lie.

Tis Visible Silence, Still As The Hour-glass.

Places That Are Empty Of You Are Empty Of Life.