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To Lose What We Have Never Owned Might Seem An Eccentric Bereavement, But Presumption Has Its Own Affliction As Well As Claim.

-Emily Dickinson

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To Lose What We

Emily Dickinson

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To Lose What We Have Never Owned Might Seem An Eccentric Bereavement, But Presumption Has Its Own Affliction As Well As Claim.

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Such Is The Force Of Happiness-- The Least Can Lift A Ton Assisted By Its Stimulus.

Whenever A Thing Is Done For The First Time, It Releases A Little Demon.

Because I Could Not Stop For Death, He Kindly Stopped For Me; The Carriage Held But Just Ourselves And Immortality.

The Pedigree Of Honey Does Not Concern The Bee; A Clover, Any Time, To Him Is Aristocracy.

We Do Not Play On Graves— Because There Isn't Room— Besides—it Isn't Even—it Slants And People Come— And Put A Flower On It— And Hang Their Faces So— We're Fearing That Their Hearts Will Drop— And Crush Our Pretty Play— And So We Move As Far As Enemies—away— Just Looking Round To See How Far It Is—occasionally—

Drab Habitation Of Whom? Tabernacle Or Tomb - Or Dome Of Worm - Or Porch Of Gnome - Or Some Elf's Catacomb?

I Do Not Like The Man Who Squanders Life For Fame; Give Me The Man Who Living Makes A Name.

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

As Summer Into Autumn Slips And Yet We Sooner Say "the Summer" Than "the Autumn," Lest We Turn The Sun Away, And Almost Count It An Affront The Presence To Concede Of One However Lovely, Not The One That We Have Loved - So We Evade The Charge Of Years On One Attempting Shy The Circumvention Of The Shaft Of Life's Declivity.

You Cannot Put A Fire Out! A Thing That Can Ignite Can Go Itself- Without A Flame- E'en Through The Darkest Night!

The Brain Is Wider Than The Sky, For, Put Them Side By Side, The One The Other Will Include With Ease, And You Beside.

Drunkards Of Summer Are Quite As Frequent As Drunkards Of Wine.

Banish Air From Air Divide Light If You Dare

A Great Hope Fell You Heard No Noise The Ruin Was Within.

The Supernatural Is Only The Natural Disclosed.

To Ignore Or Use Silence Is A Cruel Tool. Hence This Quote: Silence Is All We Dread; There's Ransom In A Voice; But Silence Is Infinity.

A Word That Breathes Distinctly Has Not The Power To Die

I Hide Myself Within My Flower That Wearing On Your Breast, You, Unsuspecting, Wear Me Too - And Angels Know The Rest. I Hide Myself Within My Flower, That, Fading From Your Vase, You, Unsuspecting, Feel For Me Almost A Loneliness.

Answer July- Where Is The Bee- Where Is The Blush- Where Is The Hay? Ah, Said July- Where Is The Seed- Where Is The Bud- Where Is The May- Answer Thee-me-

I Could Not Stop For Death And He Did Not Stop For Me.

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.

I Had A Terror-since September -i Could Tell To None-and So I Sing, As The Boy Does By The Burying Ground-because I Am Afraid.

Two Seasons, It Is Said, Exist- The Summer Of The Just, And This Of Ours, Diversified With Prospect, And With Frost- May Not Our Second With Its First So Infinite Compare That We But Recollect The One The Other To Prefer?

When A Lover Is A Beggar Abject Is His Knee. When A Lover Is An Owner Different Is He.

You Ask Of My Companions. Hills, Sir, And The Sundown, And A Dog As Large As Myself.

The Truth Dazzles Gradually, Or Else The World Would Be Blind.

It Was A Quiet Way - He Asked If I Was His - I Made No Answer Of The Tongue But Answer Of The Eyes - And Then He Bore Me On Before This Mortal Noise With Swiftness, As Of Chariots And Distance, As Of Wheels. This World Did Drop Away As Acres From The Feet Of One That Leaneth From Balloon Upon An Ether Street. The Gulf Behind Was Not, The Continents Were New - Eternity Was Due. No Seasons Were To Us - It Was Not Night Nor Morn - But Sunrise Stopped Upon The Place And Fastened In Dawn.

This Is My Letter To The World, That Never Wrote To Me, The Simple News That Nature Told, With Tender Majesty. Her Message Is Committed, To Hands I Cannot See; For Love Of Her, Sweet Countrymen, Judge Tenderly Of Me.

Safe Despair It Is That Raves- Agony Is Frugal. Puts Itself Severe Away For Its Own Perusal.

Narcotics Cannot Still The Tooth. That Nibbles At The Soul

A Murmur In The Trees - To Note - Not Loud Enough - For Wind - A Star - Not Far Enough To Seek - Nor Near Enough - To Find

My Life Had Stood - A Loaded Gun - In Corners - Till A Day The Owner Passed - Identified - And Carried Me Away -

I Dwell In Possiblities.

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

I Do Not Feel I Could Give Up All For Christ, Were I Called To Die.

What Will The Solemn Hemlock- What Will The Oak Tree Say?

Spring Is The Period Express From God.

We Never Know How High We Are Till We Are Called To Rise. Then If We Are True To Form Our Statures Touch The Skies.

There Is A Solitude Of Space. A Solitude Of Sea. A Solitude Of Death, But These Societies Shall Be Compared With That Profounder Site-that Polar Privacy. A Soul Admitted To Itself--finite Infinity.

My Only Sketch, Profile, Of Heaven Is A Large Blue Sky, And Larger Than The Biggest I Have Seen In June - And In It Are My Friends - Every One Of Them.

Truth - Is As Old As God-.

When I State Myself, As The Representative Of The Verse, It Does Not Mean Me, But A Supposed Person.

Surgeons Must Be Very Careful When They Take The Knife! Underneath Their Fine Incisions Stirs The Culprit-life!

Till It Has Loved, No Man Or Woman Can Become Itself.

Phosphorescence. Now There's A Word To Lift Your Hat To... To Find That Phosphorescence, That Light Within, That's The Genius Behind Poetry.

I Must Go In, The Fog Is Rising.

Portrait The World Spreads Out On Either Side No Farther Than The Heart Is Wide.

After Great Pain, A Formal Feeling Comes. The Nerves Sit Ceremonious, Like Tombs.

The Heart Asks Pleasure First, And Then, Excuse From Pain; And Then, Those Little Anodynes That Deaden Suffering; And Then, To Go To Sleep; And Then, If It Should Be The Will Of Its Inquisitor, The Liberty To Die.

Just Girt Me For The Onset With Eternity, When Breath Blew Back, And On The Other Side I Heard Recede The Disappointed Tide!

The Soul Selects Her Own Society.

Nature Is What We See - The Hill, The Afternoon, Squirrel, Eclipse, The Bumblebee. Nay, Nature Is Heaven. Nature Is What We Hear...

Sweet Skepticism Of The Heart That Knows And Does Not Know And Tosses Like A Fleet Of Balm Affronted By The Snow.

By Chivalries As Tiny, A Blossom, Or A Book, The Seeds Of Smiles Are Planted- Which Blossom In The Dark.

I Would Paint A Portrait Which Would Bring The Tears, Had I Canvas For It, And The Scene Should Be -- Solitude, And The Figures -- Solitude -- And The Lights And Shades, Each A Solitude.

One Need Not Be A Chamber To Be Haunted.

Spring's First Conviction Is A Wealth Beyond Its Whole Experience.

Love Is Done When Loves Begun, Sages Say, But Have Sages Known?

Find Ecstasy In Life; The Mere Sense Of Living Is Joy Enough.

To Venerate The Simple Days Which Lead The Seasons By, Needs But To Remember That From You Or I They May Take The Trifle Termed Mortality!

Pardon My Sanity In A World Insane

The Things That Never Can Come Back, Are Several - Childhood - Some Forms Of Hope - The Dead.

The Words The Happy Say Are Paltry Melody But Those The Silent Feel Are Beautiful-.

Behavior Is What A Man Does, Not What He Thinks, Feels, Or Believes.

If I Shouldn't Be Alive When The Robins Come, Give The One In Red Cravat, A Memorial Crumb.

To Make A Prairie It Takes A Clover And One Bee, -

Suspense-is Hostiler Than Death-death- Tho Soever Broad, Is Just Death, And Cannot Increase- Suspense-does Not Conclude-.

Hope Is The Thing With Feathers That Perches In The Soul - And Sings The Tunes Without The Words - And Never Stops At All.

Time Is Short And Full, Like An Outgrown Frock - .

He Ate And Drank The Precious Words, His Spirit Grew Robust; He Knew No More That He Was Poor, Nor That His Frame Was Dust.

Assent - And You Are Sane - Demur - And You're Straightaway Dangerous - And Handled With A Chain.

Opinion Is A Flitting Thing But Truth Outlasts The Sun.

I Have A Bird In Spring Which For Myself Doth Sing - The Spring Decoys. And As The Summer Nears - And As The Rose Appears, Robin Is Gone. Yet Do I Not Repine Knowing That Bird Of Mine Though Flown - Learneth Beyond The Sea Melody New For Me And Will Return.

I Died For Beauty--but Was Scarce Adjusted In The Tomb When One Who Died For Truth, Was Lain In An Adjoining Room

Behold This Little Bane- The Boon Of All Alive- As Common As It Is Unknown The Name Of It Is Love.

Unable Are The Loved To Die For Love Is Immortality, Nay, It Is Deity - Unable They That Love - To Die For Love Reforms Vitality Into Divinity.

That Love Is All There Is, Is All We Know Of Love.

Tis Not That Dieing Hurts Us So- Tis Living- Hurts Us More.

These Are The Days When Birds Come Back, A Very Few, A Bird Or Two, To Take A Backward Look.

A Dim Capacity For Wings Demeans The Dress I Wear.

Unto A Broken Heart No Other One May Go Without The High Prerogative Itself Hath Suffered Too.

To Be Alive──is Power.

Prosperity Whose Sources Are Interior. As Soon Adversity A Diamond Overtake.

Longing Is Like A Seed That Wrestles In The Ground

You'll Find It-when You Try To Die- The Easier To Let Go- For Recollecting Such As Went- You Could Not Spare-you Know.

The Steeples Swam In Amethyst, The News Like Squirrels Swam.

A Letter Is A Joy Of Earth - It Is Denied The Gods

Remorse Is Cureless--the Disease Not Even God--can Heal-- For 'tis His Institution--and The Adequate Of Hell

They Say That 'home Is Where The Heart Is.' I Think It Is Where The House Is, And The Adjacent Buildings.

We Turn Not Older With Years But Newer Every Day.

I See Thee Better In The Dark, I Do Not Need A Light. The Love Of Thee A Prism Be Excelling Violet. I See Thee Better For The Years That Hunch Themselves Between, The Miner’s Lamp Sufficient Be To Nullify The Mine. And In The Grave I See Thee Best— Its Little Panels Be A-glow, All Ruddy With The Light I Held So High For Thee! What Need Of Day To Those Whose Dark Hath So Surpassing Sun, It Seem It Be Continually At The Meridian?

To Multiply The Harbors Does Not Reduce The Sea.

I Fear A Man Of Frugal Speech - I Fear A Silent Man - Haranguer - I Can Overtake - Or Babbler - Entertain - But He Who Weigheth - While The Rest - Expend Their Furthest Pound - Of This Man - I Am Wary - I Fear That He Is Grand -

You Left Me Boundaries Of Pain Capacious As The Sea, Between Eternity And Time, Your Consciousness And Me.

His Labor Is A Chant - His Idleness -a Tune - Oh, For A Bee's Experience Of Clovers, And Of Noon!

Fortune Befriends The Bold.

Dare You See A Soul At The White Heat?

Mine Enemy Is Growing Old -- I Have At Last Revenge -- The Palate Of The Hate Departs -- If Any Would Avenge Let Him Be Quick -- The Viand Flits -- It Is A Faded Meat -- Anger As Soon As Fed Is Dead -- 'tis Starving Makes It Fat

Presentiment Is That Long Shadow On The Lawn Indicative That Suns Go Down; The Notice To The Startled Grass That Darkness Is About To Pass.

Celebrity Is The Chastisement Of Merit And The Punishment Of Talent.

God Is Indeed A Jealous God. He Cannot Bear To See, That We Had Rather Not With Him, But With Each Other Play.

I Dwell In Possibility A Fairer House Than Prose More Numerous Of Windows Superior — For Doors.

For Each Ecstatic Instant We Must An Anguish Pay In Keen And Quivering Ratio To The Ecstasy.

A Clock Stopped-- Not The Mantel's-- Geneva's Farthest Skill Can't Put The Puppet Bowing-- That Just Now Dangled Still

Why Should We Censure Othello When The Criterion Lover Says, "thou Shalt Have No Other Gods Before Me"?

You Remember My Ideal Cat Has Always A Huge Rat In Its Mouth, Just Going Out Of Sight - Though Going Out Of Sight In Itself Has A Peculiar Pleasure.

How Softly Summer Shuts, Without The Creaking Of A Door.

The Bustle In A House The Morning After Death Is Solemnest Of Industries Enacted Upon Earth,-- The Sweeping Up The Heart, And Putting Love Away We Shall Not Want To Use Again Until Eternity

The Soul Selects Her Own Society, Then Shuts The Door; On Her Divine Majority Obtrude No More.

Some Keep The Sabbath Going To Church, I Keep It Staying At Home, With A Bobolink For A Chorister, And An Orchard For A Dome.

Good Times Are Always Mutual; That Is What Makes Good Times.

A Death-blow Is A Life-blow To Some Who, Till They Died, Did Not Alive Become; Who, Had They Lived, Had Died, But When They Died, Vitality Begun.

Forever Is Made Up Of Nows.

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

How Strange That Nature Does Not Knock, And Yet Does Not Intrude!

September's Baccalaureate A Combination Is Of Crickets - Crows - And Retrospects And A Dissembling Breeze That Hints Without Assuming - An Innuendo Sear That Makes The Heart Put Up Its Fun And Turn Philosopher.

I Have An Appetite For Silence.

Not To Discover Weakness Is The Artifice Of Strength.

My Faith Is Larger Than The Hills— So When The Hills Decay— My Faith Must Take The Purple Wheel To Show The Sun The Way— 'tis First He Steps Upon The Vane— And Then — Upon The Hill— And Then Abroad The World He Go To Do His Golden Will— And If His Yellow Feet Should Miss— The Bird Would Not Arise— The Flowers Would Slumber On Their Stems— No Bells Have Paradise— How Dare I, Therefore, Stint A Faith On Which So Vast Depends— Lest Firmament Should Fail For Me— The Rivet In The Bands

Forever Is Composed Of Nows 'tis Not A Different Time Except For Infiniteness And Latitude Of Home

If I Read A Book And It Makes My Whole Body So Cold No Fire Can Warm Me, I Know That Is Poetry. If I Feel Physically As If The Top Of My Head Were Taken Off, I Know That Is Poetry. These Are The Only Ways I Know It. Is There Any Other Way?

Love Is Anterior To Life, Posterior To Death, Initial Of Creation, And The Exponent Of Breath.

Beauty Crowds Me Till I Die. Beauty, Mercy Have On Me! Yet If I Expire To-day Let It Be In Sight Of Thee!

Forever - Is Composed Of Nows - 'tis Not A Different Time... Let Months Dissolve In Further Months - And Years - Exhale In Years.

You Don't Have To Be A House To Be Haunted.

To Fight Aloud Is Very Brave, But Gallanter, I Know, Who Charge Within The Bosom, The Cavalry Of Woe.

I Know Some Lonely Houses Off The Road A Robber'd Like The Look Of,-- Wooden Barred, And Windows Hanging Low

This World Is Not Conclusion. A Sequel Stands Beyond- Invisible, As Music- But Positive, As Sound.

Love Is Like The Wild Rose-briar; Friendship Like The Holly-tree. The Holly Is Dark When The Rose-briar Blooms, But Which Will Bloom Most Constantly? The Wild Rose-briar Is Sweet In Spring ,its Summer Blossoms Scent The Air; Yet Wait Till Winter Comes Again, And Who Will Call The Wild-briar Fair? Then, Scorn The Silly Rose-wreath Now, And Deck Thee With Holly's Sheen, That, When December Blights Thy Brow, He Still May Leave Thy Garland Green.

If Your Nerve, Deny You - Go Above Your Nerve

I Had No Time To Hate, Because The Grave Would Hinder Me, And Life Was Not So Ample I Could Finish Enmity Nor Had I Time To Love: But Since Some Industry Must Be, The Little Toil Of Love, I Thought, Was Large Enough For Me.

The Past Is Such A Curious Creature To Look Her In The Face A Transport May Receipt Us Or A Disgrace-.

I Do Not Know The Man So Bold He Dare In Lonely Place That Awful Stranger Consciousness Deliberately Face-.

Does Not Eternity Appear Dreadful To You. I Often Get To Thinking Of It And It Seems So Dark To Me That I Almost Wish There Was No Eternity. To Think That We Must Forever Live And Never Cease To Be. It Seems As If Death Would Be A Relief To So Endless A State Of Existence.

It Sounded As If The Streets Were Running, And Then The Streets Stood Still.

The Appetite For Silence Is Seldom An Acquired Taste.

Much Madness Is Divinest Sense -- To A Discerning Eye -- Much Sense -- The Starkest Madness -- 'tis The Majority In This, As All, Prevail -- Assent -- And You Are Sane -- Demur -- You're Straightway Dangerous -- And Handled With A Chain --

The Soul Should Always Stand Ajar, That If The Heaven Inquire, He Will Not Be Obliged To Wait, Or Shy Of Troubling Her. Depart, Before The Host Has Slid The Bolt Upon The Door, To Seek For The Accomplished Guest, -- Her Visitor No More.

You Can Stay Young As Long As You Learn.

God, Keep Me From What They Call 'households,'

Dreams Are The Subtle Dower That Make Us Rich An Hour Then Fling Us Poor Out Of The Purple Door.

Much Madness Is Divinest Sense, To A Discerning Eye.

She Died--this Was The Way She Died; And When Her Breath Was Done, Took Up Her Simple Wardrobe And Started For The Sun. Her Little Figure At The Gate The Angels Must Have Spied, Since I Could Never Find Her Upon The Mortal Side.

When He Tells Us About His Father, We Distrust Him. When He Shows Us His Home, We Turn Away, But When He Confides To Us That He Is Acquainted With Grief, We Listen, For That Also Is An Acquaintance Of Our Own.

Experiment Has A Stimulus Which Withers Its Fear.

Lest I Should Be Old-fashioned, I'll Put A Trinket On.

A Dominie In Gray-- Put Gently Up The Evening Bars-- And Led The Flock Away

An Altered Look About The Hills; A Tyrian Light The Village Fills; A Wider Sunrise In The Dawn; A Deeper Twilight On The Lawn; A Print Of A Vermilion Foot; A Purple Finger On The Slope; A Flippant Fly Upon The Pane; A Spider At His Trade Again; An Added Strut In Chanticleer; A Flower Expected Everywhere.

A Shady Friend For Torrid Days Is Easier To Find Than One Of Higher Temperature For Frigid Hour Of Mind.

I Hope Your Rambles Have Been Sweet, And Your Reveries Spacious

Tell All The Truth, But Tell It Slant/success In Circuit Lies.

Congratulations

There's A Certain Slant Of Light, On Winter Afternoons, That Oppresses, Like The Weight Of Cathedral Tunes.

Unable Are The Loved To Die, For Love Is Immortality.

It Is Better To Be The Hammer Than The Anvil.

I Am Nobody! Who Are You? Are You A Nobody, Too?

Not One Of All The Purple Host Who Took The Flag To-day Can Tell The Definition So Clear Of Victory, As He, Defeated, Dying, On Whose Forbidden Ear The Distant Strains Of Triumph Break Agonized And Clear.

There Is No Frigate Like A Book To Take Us Lands Away Nor Any Coursers Like A Page Of Prancing Poetry.

Noon - Is The Hinge Of Day-.

The Career Of Flowers Differs From Ours Only Inaudibleness.

Then, As Horizons Step, Or Noons Report Away,without The Formula Of Sound, It Passes, And We Stay:a Quality Of Loss Affecting Our Content.

If Fame Belonged To Me, I Could Not Escape Her; If She Did Not, The Longest Day Would Pass Me On The Chase, And The Approbation Of My Dog Would Forsake Me.

I Never Lost As Much But Twice, And That Was In The Sod.

Not If Their Party Were Waiting, Not If To Talk With Me Were To Them Now, Homesickness After Eternity.

My Life Closed Twice Before Its Close; It Yet Remains To See If Immortality Unveil A Third Event To Me, So Huge, So Hopeless To Conceive, As These That Twice Befell. Parting Is All We Know Of Heaven, And All We Need Of Hell.

Common Sense Is Almost As Omniscient As God.

A Precious, Mouldering Pleasure 't Is, To Meet An Antique Book, In Just The Dress His Century Wore; A Privilege I Think.

I Measure Every Grief I Meet With Narrow, Probing Eyes - I Wonder If It Weighs Like Mine - Or Has An Easier Size.

Inebriate Of Air Am I, And Debauchee Of Dew, Reeling, Through Endless Summer Days, From Inns Of Molten Blue.

Love Is Its Own Rescue; For We, At Our Supremest, Are But Its Trembling Emblems.

The Soul Should Always Stand Ajar, Ready To Welcome The Ecstatic Experience.

The Older I Grow The More Do I Love Spring And Spring Flowers. Is It So With You?

A Toad, Can Die Of Light - Death Is The Common Right Of Toads And Men

The World Allured Me & In An Unguarded Moment I Listened To Her Siren Voice. From That Moment I Seemed To Lose Interest In Heavenly Things. Friends Reasoned With Me & Told Me Of The Danger I Was In. I Felt My Danger & Was Alarmed, But I Had Rambled Too Far To Return & Ever Since My Heart Has Been Growing Harder.

The Poet Lights The Light And Fades Away. But The Light Goes On And On.

Nods From The Gilded Pointers - Nods From The Seconds Slim - Decades Of Arrogance Between The Dial Life - And Him -

Here Is A Little Forest Whose Leaf Is Ever Green; Here Is A Brighter Garden, Where Not A Frost Has Been; In Its Unfading Flowers I Hear The Bright Bee Hum; Prithee, My Brother, Into My Garden Come!

Some Arrows Slay But Whom They Strike - But This Slew All But Him - Who So Appareled His Escape - Too Trackless For A Tomb

A Little Madness In The Spring Is Wholesome Even For The King, But God Be With The Clown, Who Ponders This Tremendous Scene-- This Whole Experiment In Green, As If It Were His Own!

Beauty Is Just A Light Switch Away...'click!' Beauty Is Not Caused. It Is.

For Love Is Immortality.

Action Is Redemption.

Proud Of My Broken Heart Since Thou Didst Break It, Proud Of The Pain I Did Not Feel Till Thee, Proud Of My Night Since Thou With Moons Dost Slake It, Not To Partake Thy Passion, My Humility.

Speech Is One Symptom Of Affection; And Silence One; The Perfect Communication Is Heard Of None.

The Lovely Flowers Embarrass Me. They Make Me Regret I Am Not A Bee.

Best Witchcraft Is Geometry To The Magician's Mind - His Ordinary Acts Are Feats To Thinking Of Mankind.

The Heart Asks Pleasure--first-- And Then--excuse From Pain

What Fortitude The Soul Contains, That It Can So Endure The Accent Of A Coming Foot- The Opening Of A Door.

Love Can Do All But Raise The Dead I Doubt If Even That From Such A Giant Were Withheld Were Flesh Equivalent But Love Is Tired And Must Sleep, And Hungry And Must Graze And So Abets The Shining Fleet Till It Is Out Of Gaze.

God's Little Blond Blessing We Have Long Deemed You, And Hope His So-called Will Will Not Compel Him To Revoke You.

You Are Nipping In The Bud Fancies Which I Let Blossom. The Shore Is Safer, But I Love To Buffet The Sea - I Can Count The Bitter Wrecks Here In These Pleasant Waters, And Hear The Murmuring Winds, But Oh, I Love The Danger!

My Love For Those I Love -- Not Many -- Not Very Many, But Don't I Love Them So?

Where Thou Art, That Is Home.

The Truth Never Flaunted A Sign.

Positive Atheism

Fame Is A Fickle Food Upon A Shifting Plate.

She Rose To His Requirement, Dropped The Playthings Of Her Life To Take The Honorable Work Of Woman And Of Wife.

Forever Is Comprised Of Nows.

Hold Dear To Your Parents For It Is A Scary And Confusing World Without Them.

Within Thy Grave! Oh No, But On Some Other Flight - Thou Only Camest To Mankind To Rend It With Good Night

The Will Is Always Near, Dear, Though The Feet Vary.

This Is The Hour Of Lead- Remembered, If Outlived, As Freezing Persons, Recollect The Snow- First-chill-then Stupor- Then The Letting Go---

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