Enough is so vast a sweetness I suppose it never occurs.

The bustle in a house The morning after death Is solemnest of industries Enacted upon earth,-- The sweeping up the heart, And putting love away We shall not want to use again Until eternity

I HIDE myself within my flower That wearing on your breast, You, unsuspecting, wear me too - And angels know the rest. I hide myself within my flower, That, fading from your vase, You, unsuspecting, feel for me Almost a loneliness.

Beauty is not the cause of something, it is what it is.

Knew I how to pray, to intercede for your [broken] Foot were intuitive - but I am but a Pagan.

You cannot put a fire out! A thing that can ignite can go itself- without a flame- E'en through the darkest night!

Witchcraft was hung, in History, But History and I Find all the Witchcraft that we need Around us, every Day -