And Lilies Are Still Lilies,

Nor Myrtle--which Means Chiefly Love: And Love Is Something Awful Which One Dare Not Touch So Early O' Mornings.

Through Heaven And Earth God's Will Moves Freely, And I Follow It, As Color Follows Light. He Overflows The Firmamental Walls With Deity, Therefore With Love; His Lightnings Go Abroad, His Pity May Do So, His Angels Must, Whene'er He Gives Them Charges.

That Headlong Ivy! Not A Leaf Will Grow But Thinking Of A Wreath, . . . I Like Such Ivy; Bold To Leap A Height 'twas Strong To Climb! As Good To Grow On Graves As Twist About A Thyrsus; Pretty Too (and That's Not Ill) When Twisted Round A Comb.

Never Say No When The World Says Aye.

Some People Always Sigh In Thanking God.