Mirth Is The Mail Of Anguish --

A Courteous, Yet Harrowing Grace, As Guest, That Would Be Gone

Faith Slips - And Laughs, And Rallies

A Letter Always Seemed To Me Like Immortality Because It Is The Mind Alone Without Corporeal Friend.

In This Short Life That Only Lasts Ah Hour How Much-how Little-is Within Our Power.

I Confess That I Love Him, I Rejoice That I Love Him, I Thank The Maker Of Heaven And Earth That Gave Him To Me. The Exultation Floods Me.