Mothers, Wives And Maids, These Be The

But There Are Times When Patience Proves At Fault.

Love Is Energy Of Life.

No, When The Fight Begins Within Himself, / A Man's Worth Something.

That Great Brow And The Spirit-small Hand Propping It.

How Well I Know What I Mean To Do When The Long Dark Autumn Evenings Come, And Where, My Soul, Is Thy Pleasant Hue? With The Music Of All Thy Voices, Dumb In Life’s November Too! I Shall Be Found By The Fire, Suppose, O’er A Great Wise Book As Beseemeth Age, While The Shutters Flap As The Cross-wind Blows, And I Turn The Page, And I Turn The Page, Not Verse Now, Only Prose!