Love Is The Energy Of Life.

Time'swheelsrunsbackor Stops: Potterand Clayendure.

Sorrow, The Heart Must Bear, Sits In The Home Of Each, Conspicuous There. Many A Circumstance, At Least, Touches The Very Breast. For Those Whom Any Sent Away,--he Knows: And In The Live Man's Stead, Armor And Ashes Reach The House Of Each.

Art Remains The One Way Possible Of Speaking Truth.

When A Man's Busy, Why Leisure Strikes Him As Wonderful Pleasure: 'faith, And At Leisure Once Is He? Straightway He Wants To Be Busy.

On The Earth The Broken Arcs; In The Heaven A Perfect Round.