Nothing More Do I Ask Than To

Nothing More Do I Ask Than To Share With You The Ecstasy And Sacrament Of My Life.

To Fight Aloud, Is Very Brave— But Gallanter, I Know Who Charge Within The Bosom The Cavalry Of Wo— Who Win, And Nations Do Not See— Who Fall — And None Observe — Whose Dying Eyes, No Country Regards With Patriot Love— We Trust, In Plumed Procession For Such, The Angels Go— Rank After Rank, With Even Feet— And Uniforms Of Snow.

The Bustle In A House The Morning After Death Is Solemnest Of Industries Enacted Upon Earth,-- The Sweeping Up The Heart, And Putting Love Away We Shall Not Want To Use Again Until Eternity

The Sweets Of Pillage Can Be Known To No One But The Thief, Compassion For Integrity Is His Divinest Grief.

Old Age Comes On Suddenly, And Not Gradually As Is Thought.