But The Child's Sob Curses Deeper In

For 'tis Not In Mere Death That Men Die Most.

A Grave, On Which To Rest From Singing?

I Heard An Angel Speak Last Night/and He Said, "write!"

A Woman's Always Younger Than A Man At Equal Years.

Through Heaven And Earth God's Will Moves Freely, And I Follow It, As Color Follows Light. He Overflows The Firmamental Walls With Deity, Therefore With Love; His Lightnings Go Abroad, His Pity May Do So, His Angels Must, Whene'er He Gives Them Charges.