Your Eyes Smile Peace.

The Worst Moment For The Atheist Is When He Is Really Thankful And Has Nobody To Thank.

And Love, Our Light At Night And Shade At Noon,lulls Us To Rest With Songs, And Turns Awayall Shafts Of Shelterless Tumultuous Day.

From Perfect Grief There Need Not Bewisdom Or Even Memory;one Thing Then Learned Remains To Me -the Woodspurge Has A Cup Of Three.

Deep In The Sun-searched Growths The Dragonfly Hangs Like A Blue Thread Loosened From The Sky.

I Plucked A Honeysuckle Where The Hedge On High Is Quick With Thorn, And Climbing For The Prize, Was Torn, And Fouled My Feet In Quag-water; And By The Thorns And By The Wind The Blossom That I Took Was Thinn'd, And Yet I Found It Sweet And Fair.