The World Is A Great Volume, And

Batter My Heart, Three-personed God, For You As Yet But Knock; Breathe, Shine, And Seek To Mend; That I May Rise, And Stand, O'erthrow Me, And Bend Your Force To Break, Blow, Burn, And Make Me New.

Be Thine Own Palace, Or The World's Thy Jail.

Old Grandsires Talk Of Yesterday With Sorrow, And For Our Children We Reserve Tomorrow.

Death Comes Equally To Us All, And Makes Us All Equal When It Comes.

Commemoration Of Pandita Mary Ramabai, Translator Of The Scriptures, 1922 A Memory Of Yesterday's Pleasures, A Fear Of Tomorrow's Dangers, A Straw Under My Knees, A Noise In My Ear, A Light In My Eye, An Anything, A Nothing, A Fancy, A Chimera In My Brain, Troubles Me In My Prayers.