More Than Kisses, Letters Mingle Souls.

Be More Than Man, Or Thou'rt Less Than An Ant.

For Love All Love Of Other Sights Controls And Makes One Little Room An Everywhere

Sleep With Clean Hands, Either Kept Clean All Day By Integrity Or Washed Clean At Night By Repentance.

Tis True, 'tis Day; What Though It Be? O Wilt Thou Therefore Rise From Me? Why Should We Rise, Because 'tis Light? Did We Lie Down, Because 'twas Night? Love Which In Spite Of Darkness Brought Us Hither Should In Despite Of Light Keep Us Together.

At The Round Earth's Imagined Corners, Blow Your Trumpets, Angels.