New Angel Mine, Unhoped For

And If God Choose I Shall But Love Thee Better After Death.

What I Do And What I Dream Include Thee, As The Wine Must Taste Of Its Own Grapes.

God Keeps A Niche In Heaven, To Hold Our Idols; And Albeit He Brake Them To Our Faces, And Denied That Our Close Kisses Should Impair Their White,-- I Know We Shall Behold Them Raised, Complete, The Dust Swept From Their Beauty, Glorified, New Memnons Singing In The Great God-light.

Death Forerunneth Love To Win "sweetest Eyes Were Ever Seen."

Souls Are Gregarious In A Sense, But No Soul Touches Another, As A General Rule.