As Peace Is Of All

No Spring Nor Summer Beauty Hath Such Grace As I Have Seen In One Autumnal Face.

Love Is A Growing, Or Full Constant Light; And His First Minute, After Noon, Is Night.

I Throw Myself Down In My Chamber, And I Call In, And Invite God, And His Angels Thither, And When They Are There, I Neglect God And His Angels, For The Noise Of A Fly, For The Rattling Of A Coach, For The Whining Of A Door.

I Shall Not Live 'till I See God; And When I Have Seen Him, I Shall Never Die.

Women Are Like The Arts, Forced Unto None, Open To All Searchers, Unprized, If Unknown.