I Imagine Therefore I Belong And Am

Answer July- Where Is The Bee- Where Is The Blush- Where Is The Hay? Ah, Said July- Where Is The Seed- Where Is The Bud- Where Is The May- Answer Thee-me-

The Service Without Hope Is Tenderest, I Think-- ... There Is No Diligence Like That That Knows Not An Until

Eden Is That Old-fashioned House We Dwell In Every Day Without Suspecting Our Abode Until We Drive Away.

After A Hundred Years Nobody Knows The Place, Agony, That Enacted There, Motionless As Peace.

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