The Crime, from us, is hidden, [though] he is presumed to know.

I dwell in possibilities... a fairer house than prose.

They address an Eclipse every morning, whom they call their "Father."

Is Bliss then, such Abyss, I must not put my foot amiss For fear I spoil my shoe? I'd rather suit my foot Than save my Boot -- For yet to buy another Pair is possible, At any store -- But Bliss, is sold just once. The Patent lost None buy it any more --

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.

To multiply the harbors does not reduce the sea.

I would like more sisters, that the taking out of one, might not leave such stillness.