Noble Souls, Through Dust And Heat, Rise

Books Are Sepulchres Of Thought.

Beautiful In Form And Feature, Lovely As The Day, Can There Be So Fair A Creature Formed Of Common Clay?

Softly The Evening Came /with The Sunset/.

Does Not All The Blood Within Me Leap To Meet Thee, Leap To Meet Thee, As The Springs To Meet The Sunshine.

The Nearer The Dawn The Darker The Night.