In Your Patience Ye Are Strong.

Truth Outlives Pain, As The Soul Does Life.

There's Nothing Great Nor Small, Has Said A Poet Of Our Day, Whose Voice Will Ring Beyond The Curfew Of Eve And Not Be Thrown Out By The Matin's Bell.

Deep Violets, You Liken To The Kindest Eyes That Look On You, Without A Thought Disloyal.

O, Brothers! Let Us Leave The Shame And Sin Of Taking Vainly In A Plaintive Mood, The Holy Name Of Grief--holy Herein, That, By The Grief Of One, Came All Our Good.

I, Who Had Had My Heart Full For Hours, Took Advantage Of An Early Moment Of Solitude, To Cry In It Very Bitterly. Suddenly A Little Hairy Head Thrust Itself From Behind My Pillow Into My Face, Rubbing Its Ears And Nose Against Me In A Responsive Agitation, And Drying The Tears As They Came.