Earth Is A Merry Damsel, And Heaven

The Crime, From Us, Is Hidden, [though] He Is Presumed To Know.

What Fortitude The Soul Contains, That It Can So Endure The Accent Of A Coming Foot- The Opening Of A Door.

The Steeples Swam In Amethyst, The News Like Squirrels Swam.

Endow The Living - With The Tears - You Squander On The Dead.

A Narrow Fellow In The Grass Occasionally Rides