Within Thy Grave! Oh No, But On

You Cannot Fold A Flood And Put It In A Drawer, Because The Winds Would Find It Out And Tell Your Cedar Floor.

Faith—is The Pierless Bridge Supporting What We See Unto The Scene That We Do Not— Too Slender For The Eye It Bears The Soul As Bold As It Were Rocked In Steel With Arms Of Steel At Either Side— It Joins—behind The Veil To What, Could We Presume The Bridge Would Cease To Be To Our Far, Vacillating Feet A First Necessity.

No Life Can Pompless Pass Away - The Lowliest Career To The Same Pageant Wends Its Way As That Exalted Here -

Wild Nights – Wild Nights! Were I With Thee Wild Nights Should Be Our Luxury! Futile – The Winds – To A Heart In Port – Done With The Compass – Done With The Chart! Rowing In Eden – Ah, The Sea! Might I Moor – Tonight – In Thee!

We Trust In Plumed Procession For Such The Angels Go Rank After Rank, With Even Feet/and Uniforms Of Snow.