Guess I'll Weep Awhile. Guess I Won't,

Life Has No Friend.

The Fabric Of My Faithful Love No Power Shall Dim Or Ravel Whilst I Stay Here - But Oh, My Dear, If I Should Ever Travel!

You Are Loved. If So, What Else Matters?

Ah! Up Then From The Ground Sprang I And Hailed The Earth With Such A Cry As Is Not Heard Save From A Man Who Has Been Dead, And Lives Again. About The Trees My Arms I Wound; Like One Gone Mad I Hugged The Ground; I Raised My Quivering Arms On High; I Laughed And Laughed Into The Sky.

A Grave Is Such A Quiet Place.