Infinite Goodness Has Such Wide Arms.

O Faithful Conscience, Delicately Pure, How Doth A Little Failing Wound Thee Sore!

As Phantoms Frighten Beasts When Shadows Fall.

I Found Myself Within A Forest Dark, For The Straightfoward Pathway Had Been Lost. Ah Me! How Hard A Thing Is To Say, What Was This Forest Savage, Rough, And Stern, Which In The Very Thought Renews The Fear. So Bitter Is It, Death Is Little More.

As Fall The Light Autumnal Leaves, One Still The Other Following, Till The Bough Strews All Its Honors On The Earth Below.

Love, Who Insists That Love Shall Mutual Be, Link'd Me To Him With Charm Strong As Our Fates; Even Now It Leaves Me Not, As Thou Dost See.