In Your Patience Ye Are Strong.

Souls Are Gregarious In A Sense, But No Soul Touches Another, As A General Rule.

Experience, Like A Pale Musician, Holds A Dulcimer Of Patience In His Hand.

But Since He Had The Genius To Be Loved, Why Let Him Have The Justice To Be Honoured In His Grave.

For 'tis Not In Mere Death That Men Die Most.

Guess Now Who Holds Thee?'--'death,' I Said. But, There, The Silver Answer Rang, . . . 'not Death, But Love.