Be Thine Own Palace, Or The World's

God Made Sun And Moon To Distinguish The Seasons, And Day And Night; And We Cannot Have The Fruits Of The Earth But In Their Seasons. But God Hath Made No Decrees To Distinguish The Seasons Of His Mercies. In Paradise The Fruits Were Ripe The First Minute, And In Heaven It Is Always Autumn. His Mercies Are Ever In Their Maturity.

I Long To Talk With Some Old Lover's Ghost, Who Died Before The God Of Love Was Born.

Reason Is Our Soul's Left Hand, Faith Her Right, By These We Reach Divinity

We Give Each Other A Smile With A Future In It

Humiliation Is The Beginning Of Sanctification.