Conscience Is Harder Than Our Enemies, Knows

"abroad," That Large Home Of Ruined Reputations.

There Are Natures In Which, If They Love Us, We Are Conscious Of Having A Sort Of Baptism And Consecration.

Fairy Folk A-listening Hear The Seed Sprout In The Spring, And For Music To Their Dance Hear The Hedgerows Wake From Trance, Sap That Trembles Into Buds Sending Little Rhythmic Floods Of Fairy Sound In Fairy Ears. Thus All Beauty That Appears Has Birth As Sound To Finer Sense And Lighter-clad Intelligence.

In Poor Rosamond's Mind There Was Not Room Enough For Luxuries To Look Small In.

The Best Fire Doesna Flare Up The Soonest.