XI I sang his name instead of song; Over and over I sang his name: Backward and forward I sang it along, With my sweetest notes, it was still the same! I sang it low, that the slave-girls near Might never guess, from what they could hear, That all the song was a name.

truth outlives pain, as the soul does life.

I should not dare to call my soul my own.

Whoever lives true life, will love true love.

Every age, Through being beheld too close, is ill-discerned By those who have not lived past it.

I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use

So mothers have God's license to be missed.