Longing, It May Be, Is The Gift

Belshazzar Had A Letter,-- He Never Had But One; Belshazzar's Correspondence Concluded And Begun In That Immortal Copy The Conscience Of Us All Can Read Without Its Glasses On Revelation's Wall.

A Power Of Butterfly Must Be - The Aptitude To Fly Meadows Of Majesty Concedes And Easy Sweeps Of Sky -

'tis Sweet To Know That Stocks Will Stand When We With Daisies Lie- That Commerce Will Continue- And Trades As Briskly Fly.

Those Who Have Not Found The Heaven Below, Will Fail Of It Above.

My River Runs To Thee: Blue Sea, Wilt Welcome Me? My River Waits Reply. Oh Sea, Look Graciously! I ’ll Fetch Thee Brooks From Spotted Nooks,— Say, Sea, Take Me!