By Chivalries As Tiny, A Blossom, Or

To Travel Far, There Is No Better Ship Than A Book.

We Turn Not Older With Years But Newer Every Day.

Enough Is So Vast A Sweetness I Suppose It Never Occurs.

Knew I How To Pray, To Intercede For Your [broken] Foot Were Intuitive - But I Am But A Pagan.

She Died--this Was The Way She Died; And When Her Breath Was Done, Took Up Her Simple Wardrobe And Started For The Sun. Her Little Figure At The Gate The Angels Must Have Spied, Since I Could Never Find Her Upon The Mortal Side.