Beauty Is God's Handwriting-a Wayside Sacrament.

Sweet Intercourse Of Looks And Smiles; For Smiles From Reason Flow.

O Welcome Pure-eyed Faith, White Handed Hope, Thou Hovering Angel Girt With Golden Wings.

He 's Gone, And Who Knows How He May Report Thy Words By Adding Fuel To The Flame?

That Space The Evil One Abstracted Stood From His Own Evil, And For The Time Remained Stupidly Good, Of Enmity Disarmed, Of Guile, Of Hate, Of Envy, Of Revenge .

Now The Bright Morning-star, Day's Harbinger, Comes Dancing From The East.