Death Is Life's High Meed.

We Read Fine Things But Never Feel Them To The Full Until We Have Gone The Same Steps As The Author.

Love In A Hut, With Water And A Crust, Is - Love, Forgive Us! - Cinders, Ashes, Dust.

I Always Made An Awkward Bow.

There Is A Budding Tomorrow In Midnight.

She Press'd His Hand In Slumber; So Once More He Could Not Help But Kiss Her And Adore.