Must In Death Your Daylight Finish? My

And Inasmuch As Feeling, The East's Gift, Is Quick And Transient,- Comes, And Lo! Is Gone, While Northern Thought Is Slow And Durable.

What Joy Is Better Than The News Of Friends?

The Sea Heaves Up, Hangs Loaded O'er The Land, Breaks There, And Buries Its Tumultuous Strength.

All's Love, Yet All's Law.

And Gain Is Gain, However Small.