And Too Soon Marred Are Those So

So May He Rest, His Faults Lie Gently On Him!

It Warms The Very Sickness In My Heart, That I Shall Live And Tell Him To His Teeth, "thus Diddest Thou;"

We May Outrun By Violent Swiftness And Lose By Over-running.

I Dote On His Very Absence.

The Devil Hath Power To Assume A Pleasing Shape.