I Had No Monarch In My Life,

Tell All The Truth But Tell It Slant-- Success In Circuit Lies Too Bright For Our Infirm Delight The Truth's Superb Surprise As Lightning To The Children Eased With Explanation Kind The Truth Must Dazzle Gradually Or Every Man Be Blind--

Love Is Like The Wild Rose-briar; Friendship Like The Holly-tree. The Holly Is Dark When The Rose-briar Blooms, But Which Will Bloom Most Constantly? The Wild Rose-briar Is Sweet In Spring ,its Summer Blossoms Scent The Air; Yet Wait Till Winter Comes Again, And Who Will Call The Wild-briar Fair? Then, Scorn The Silly Rose-wreath Now, And Deck Thee With Holly's Sheen, That, When December Blights Thy Brow, He Still May Leave Thy Garland Green.

Hope Is The Thing With Feathers That Perches In The Soul.

Hope Is The Thing With Feathers That Perches In The Soul - And Sings The Tunes Without The Words - And Never Stops At All.

Prayer Is The Little Implement Through Which Men Reach Where Presence - Is Denied Them. They Fling Their Speech By Means Of It - In God's Ear - If Then He Hear - This Sums The Apparatus Comprised In Prayer