See The Sun! God's Crest Upon His

It Is Sad To See The Light Of Beauty Wane Away, Know Eyes Are Dimming, Bosoms Shrivelling, Feet Losing Their Springs, And Limbs Their Lily Roundness; But It Is Worse To Feel The Heart-spring Gone, To Lose Hope, Care Not For The Coming Thing, And Feel All Things Go To Decay Within Us.

Thou Art A Woman, And That Is Saying The Best And Worst Of Thee.

We Live In Deeds, Not Years; In Thoughts, Not Figures On A Dial. We Should Count Time By Heart Throbs. He Most Lives Who Thinks Most, Feels The Noblest, Acts The Best.

Death Is Another Life.

For As Nightingales Do Upon Glow-worms Feed, So Poets Live Upon The Living Light.