Too Nice, And Yet Too

Whatever Praises Itself But In The Deed, Devours The Deed In The Praise.

That Is The Way To Lay The City Flat, To Bring The Roof To The Foundation, And Bury All, Which Yet Distinctly Ranges, In Heaps And Piles Of Ruin.

. . . It Is Impossible You Should Take True Root But By The Fair Weather That You Make Yourself It Is Needful That You Frame The Season Of Your Own Harvest.

I Love You With So Much Of My Heart That None Is Left To Protest.

What Early Tongue So Sweet Saluteth Me?