Love Shall Be Our Token; Love Be

Oh That It Were With Me As With The Flower; Blooming On Its Own Tree For Butterfly And Bee Its Summer Morns: That I Might Bloom Mine Hour A Rose In Spite Of Thorns. Oh That My Work Were Done As Birds' That Soar Rejoicing In The Sun: That When My Time Is Run And Daylight Too, I So Might Rest Once More Cool With Refreshing Dew.

I Watched A Rose-bud Very Long Brought On By Dew And Sun And Shower, Waiting To See The Perfect Flower: Then When I Thought It Should Be Strong It Opened At The Matin Hour And Fell At Even-song.

Better By Far You Should Forget And Smile Than That You Should Remember And Be Sad.

Obedience Is The Fruit Of Faith; Patience Is The Early Blossom On The Tree Of Faith.

Hope Dead Lives Nevermore, No, Not In Heaven.