There Is No Frigate Like

Superiority To Fate Is Difficult To Gain 'tis Not Conferred Of Any But Possible To Earn.

Sweet Skepticism Of The Heart That Knows And Does Not Know And Tosses Like A Fleet Of Balm Affronted By The Snow.

These Are The Days When Birds Come Back, A Very Few, A Bird Or Two, To Take A Backward Look.

So Proud She Was To Die It Made Us All Ashamed That What We Cherished, So Unknown To Her Desire Seemed. So Satisfied To Go Where None Of Us Should Be, Immediately, That Anguish Stooped Almost To Jealousy.

Beauty Crowds Me Till I Die. Beauty, Mercy Have On Me! Yet If I Expire To-day Let It Be In Sight Of Thee!