Sweet Skepticism Of The Heart That Knows

Then, As Horizons Step, Or Noons Report Away,without The Formula Of Sound, It Passes, And We Stay:a Quality Of Loss Affecting Our Content.

But A Book Is Only The Heart's Portrait- Every Page A Pulse.

I Hope You Love Birds Too. It Is Economical. It Saves Going To Heaven.

I Would Paint A Portrait Which Would Bring The Tears, Had I Canvas For It, And The Scene Should Be -- Solitude, And The Figures -- Solitude -- And The Lights And Shades, Each A Solitude.

Within Thy Grave! Oh No, But On Some Other Flight - Thou Only Camest To Mankind To Rend It With Good Night