Noon - Is The Hinge Of Day-.

Hope Is The Thing With Feathers That Perches In The Soul - And Sings The Tunes Without The Words - And Never Stops At All.

I Died For Beauty But Was Scarce Adjusted In The Tomb, When One Who Died For Truth Was Lain In An Adjoining Room. He Questioned Softly Why I Failed? "for Beauty," I Replied. "and I For Truth, The Two Are One; We Brethren Are," He Said. And So, As Kinsmen Met A Night, We Talked Between The Rooms, Until The Moss Had Reached Our Lips, And Covered Up Our Names.

His Mind Of Man, A Secret Makes I Meet Him With A Start He Carries A Circumference In Which I Have No Part.

Love Is Anterior To Life, Posterior To Death, Initial Of Creation, And The Exponent Of Breath.

How Odd That Girl's Life Looks Behind This Soft Eclipse! I Think That Earth Seems So To Those In Heaven Now. This Being Comfort, Then That Other Kind Was Pain; But Why Compare? I'm Wife! Stop There!