We Read Fine Things But Never Feel

The World Is Too Brutal For Me-i Am Glad There Is Such A Thing As The Grave-i Am Sure I Shall Never Have Any Rest Till I Get There.

Of Love, That Fairest Joys Give Most Unrest.

So Let Me Be Thy Choir, And Make A Moan Upon The Midnight Hours.

Parting They Seemed To Tread Upon The Air, Twin Roses By The Zephyr Blown Apart Only To Meet Again More Close.

Here Lies One Whose Name Was Writ In Water.