Thou Art An Elm, My Husband, I

That Is My Home Of Love: If I Have Ranged, Like Him That Travels I Return Again, Just To The Time, Not With The Time Exchanged.

A Breath Thou Art, Servile To All The Skyey Influences.

Kindness Nobler Ever Than Revenge.

My Hands Are Of Your Color, But I Shame To Wear A Heart So White.

Graze On My Lips; And If Those Hills Be Dry, Stray Lower, Where The Pleasant Fountains Lie.