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

I dwell in possiblities.

Grant me, O Lord, a sunny mind-Thy windy will to bear!

I died for beauty but was scarce Adjusted in the tomb, When one who died for truth was lain In an adjoining room. He questioned softly why I failed? "For beauty," I replied. "And I for truth, the two are one; We brethren are," he said. And so, as kinsmen met a night, We talked between the rooms, Until the moss had reached our lips, And covered up our names.

A precious, mouldering pleasure 't is, to meet an antique book, In just the dress his century wore; A privilege I think.

It is finished, is never said of us

That love is all there is, Is all we know of love.