The flower-girl's prayer to buy roses and pinks, held out in the smoke, like stars by day.

Folded eyes see brighter colors than the open ever do.

A grave, on which to rest from singing?

Let us be content to work To do the things we can, and not presume To fret because it's little.

I, who had had my heart full for hours, took advantage of an early moment of solitude, to cry in it very bitterly. Suddenly a little hairy head thrust itself from behind my pillow into my face, rubbing its ears and nose against me in a responsive agitation, and drying the tears as they came.

The soul hath snatched up mine all faint and weak,And placed it by thee on a golden throne,-- And that I love (O soul, we must be meek!)Is by thee only, whom I love alone.

Thou large-brain'd woman and large-hearted man.