And Lilies Are Still Lilies, Pulled By

Who Can Fear Too Many Stars, Though Each In Heaven Shall Roll- Too Many Flowers, Though Each Shall Crown The Year? Say Thou Dost Love Me, Love Me, Love Me-toll The Silver Iterance!-only Minding, Dear, To Love Me Also In Silence, With Thy Soul.

Free Men Freely Work: Whoever Fears God, Fears To Sit At Ease.

There's Nothing Great Nor Small, Has Said A Poet Of Our Day, Whose Voice Will Ring Beyond The Curfew Of Eve And Not Be Thrown Out By The Matin's Bell.

I Love You For The Part Of Me That You Bring Out.

And Lips Say “god Be Pitiful,” Who Ne'er Said “god Be Praised.”