But the child's sob curses deeper in the silence than the strong man in his wrath!

And is it not the chief good of money, the being free from the need of thinking of it?

So mothers have God's license to be missed.

Of writing many books there is no end.

I would build a cloudy House For my thoughts to live in; When for earth too fancy-loose And too low for Heaven! Hush! I talk my dream aloud - I build it bright to see, - I build it on the moonlit cloud, To which I looked with thee.

Will that light come again, As now these tears come...falling hot and real!

I love thee to the level of everyday's most quiet need, by sun and candle light...I love thee with the breath,smiles,t ears,of all my life.