Unable Are The Loved To

Prayer Is The Little Implement Through Which Men Reach; Where Presence Is Denied Them.

To See Her Is A Picture- To Hear Her Is A Tune- To Know Her An Intemperance As Innocent As June- To Know Her Not-affliction- To Own Her For A Friend A Warmth As Near As If The The Sun Were Shining In Your Hand.

The Crime, From Us, Is Hidden, [though] He Is Presumed To Know.

Belshazzar Had A Letter,-- He Never Had But One; Belshazzar's Correspondence Concluded And Begun In That Immortal Copy The Conscience Of Us All Can Read Without Its Glasses On Revelation's Wall.

For Love Is Immortality.