As The Heart Is, So

There Is No Flock, However Watched And Tended, But One Dead Lamb Is There! There Is No Fireside Howsoe'er Defended, But Has One Vacant Chair.

Nothing That Is Can Pause Or Stay; / The Moon Will Wax, The Moon Will Wane, / The Mist And Cloud Will Turn To Rain, / The Rain To Mist And Cloud Again, / Tomorrow Be Today.

It Is Foolish To Pretend That One Is Fully Recovered From A Disappointed Passion. Such Wounds Always Leave A Scar.

Simplicity In Character, In Manners, In Style; In All Things The Supreme Excellence Is Simplicity.

Out Of The Bosom Of The Air, Out Of The Cloud-folds Of Her Garments Shaken, Over The Woodlands Brown And Bare, Over The Harvest-fields Forsaken, Silent, And Soft, And Slow Descends The Snow.