The Most Dire Disaster In

Days, When The Ball Of Our Vision Had Eagles That Flew Unabashed To Sun; When The Graps On The Bow Was Decision, And Arrow And Hand And Eye Were One; When The Pleasures, Like Waves To A Swimmer, Came Heaving For Rapture Ahead! - Invoke Them, They Dwindle, They Glimmer As Lights Over Mounds Of The Dead.

Faith Works Miracles. At Least It Allows Time For Them.

Darker Grows The Valley, More And More Forgetting: So Were It With Me If Forgetting Could Be Willed. Tell The Grassy Hollow That Holds The Bubbling Well-spring, Tell It To Forget The Source That Keeps It Filled.

She Poured A Little Social Sewage Into His Ears.

Not Till The Fire Is Dying In The Grate, Look We For Any Kinship With The Stars. Oh, Wisdom Never Comes When It Is Gold, And The Great Price We Paid For It Full Worth: We Have It Only When We Are Half Earth. Little Avails That Coinage To The Old!