Bring me the sunset in a cup.

Faith is a fine invention When gentlemen can see, But microscopes are prudent In an emergency.

One need not be a chamber to be haunted.

Some Arrows slay but whom they strike - But this slew all but him - Who so appareled his Escape - Too trackless for a Tomb

My life closed twice before its close

Tell all the Truth but tell it slant-- Success in Circuit lies Too bright for our infirm Delight The Truth's superb surprise As Lightning to the Children eased With explanation kind The Truth must dazzle gradually Or every man be blind--

I must go in, the fog is rising.