To Travel Far, There Is

A Sick Room Is At Times Too Sacred A Place For A Friend's Knock, Timid As That Is.

Proud Of My Broken Heart Since Thou Didst Break It, Proud Of The Pain I Did Not Feel Till Thee, Proud Of My Night Since Thou With Moons Dost Slake It, Not To Partake Thy Passion, My Humility.

We Both Believe, And Disbelieve A Hundred Times An Hour, Which Keeps Believing Nimble.

Tis Not That Dieing Hurts Us So- Tis Living- Hurts Us More.

Eden Is That Old-fashioned House We Dwell In Every Day Without Suspecting Our Abode Until We Drive Away.