Night's Deepest Gloom Is But

Tears And Sorrows And Losses Are A Part Of What Must Be Experienced In This Present State Of Life: Some For Our Manifest Good, And Ail, Therefore, It Is Trusted, For Our Good Concealed;--for Our Final And Greatest Good.

We Are Slumberous Poppies, Lords Of Lethe Downs, Some Awake And Some Asleep, Sleeping In Our Crowns. What Perchance Our Dreams May Know, Let Our Serious May Know.

A Friend Of Ours, Who Is An Admirer Of Isaac Walton, Was Struck, Just As We Were, With The Likeness Of The Old Angler's Face To A Fish.

Green Little Vaulter, In The Sunny Grass, Catching Your Heart Up At The Feel Of June, Sole Noise That's Heard Amidst The Lazy Noon, When Ev'n The Bees Lag At The Summoning Brass.

Where The Mouth Is Sweet And The Eyes Intelligent, There Is Always The Look Of Beauty, With A Right Heart.