Memory Is A Strange Bell—jubilee, And Knell.

Forever Is Comprised Of Nows.

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

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.

Heavenly Father - Take To Thee The Supreme Iniquity Fashioned By Thy Candid Hand In A Moment Contraband - Though To Trust Us Seem To Us More Respectful - We Are Dust - We Apologize To Thee For Thine Own Duplicity.

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