No Work Begun Shall Ever Pause For

The Sad Rhyme Of The Men Who Proudly Clung To Their First Fault, And Withered In Their Pride.

If Two Lives Join, There Is Oft A Scar. They Are One And One, With A Shadowy Third; One Near One Is Too Far.

The Body Sprang At Once To The Height, And Stayed; But The Soul,-no!

The Past Is Gained, Secure, And On Record.

If Thou Tastest A Crust Of Bread, Thou Tastest All The Stars And All The Heavens.