Fearless--the Cobweb Swings From The Ceiling-- Indolent

As Summer Into Autumn Slips And Yet We Sooner Say "the Summer" Than "the Autumn," Lest We Turn The Sun Away, And Almost Count It An Affront The Presence To Concede Of One However Lovely, Not The One That We Have Loved - So We Evade The Charge Of Years On One Attempting Shy The Circumvention Of The Shaft Of Life's Declivity.

Narcotics Cannot Still The Tooth. That Nibbles At The Soul

How Frugal Is The Chariot That Bears A Human Soul.

Remorse Is Cureless--the Disease Not Even God--can Heal-- For 'tis His Institution--and The Adequate Of Hell

Prayer Is The Little Implement Through Which Men Reach; Where Presence Is Denied Them.