There Is Always One Thing

To Fight Aloud, Is Very Brave— But Gallanter, I Know Who Charge Within The Bosom The Cavalry Of Wo— Who Win, And Nations Do Not See— Who Fall — And None Observe — Whose Dying Eyes, No Country Regards With Patriot Love— We Trust, In Plumed Procession For Such, The Angels Go— Rank After Rank, With Even Feet— And Uniforms Of Snow.

His Mind Of Man, A Secret Makes I Meet Him With A Start He Carries A Circumference In Which I Have No Part.

When A Lover Is A Beggar Abject Is His Knee. When A Lover Is An Owner Different Is He.

A Shady Friend For Torrid Days Is Easier To Find Than One Of Higher Temperature For Frigid Hour Of Mind.

We Trust In Plumed Procession For Such The Angels Go Rank After Rank, With Even Feet/and Uniforms Of Snow.