She Rose To His Requirement,

How Happy Is The Little Stone That Rambles In The Road Alone, And Doesn't Care About Careers, And Exigencies Never Fears; Whose Coat Of Elemental Brown A Passing Universe Put On; And Independent As The Sun, Associates Or Glows Alone, Fulfilling Absolute Decree In Casual Simplicity.

Till It Has Loved, No Man Or Woman Can Become Itself.

Unable Are The Loved To Die For Love Is Immortality, Nay, It Is Deity - Unable They That Love - To Die For Love Reforms Vitality Into Divinity.

She Rose To His Requirement, Dropped The Playthings Of Her Life To Take The Honorable Work Of Woman And Of Wife.

Not One Of All The Purple Host Who Took The Flag To-day Can Tell The Definition So Clear Of Victory, As He, Defeated, Dying, On Whose Forbidden Ear The Distant Strains Of Triumph Break Agonized And Clear.