But a Book is only the Heart's Portrait- every Page a Pulse.

I wonder if it hurts to live, And if they have to try, And whether, could they choose between, They would not rather die.

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

At least to pray is left - is left Oh Jesus - in the Air - I know not which thy chamber is - I'm knocking everywhere.

Heavenly Father - take to thee The supreme iniquity Fashioned by thy candid Hand In a moment contraband - Though to trust us seem to us More respectful - We are Dust - We apologize to thee For thine own Duplicity.

Heart, we will forget him, You and I, tonight! You must forget the warmth he gave, I will forget the light.

I cannot help esteem The 'Bird within the Hand' Superior to the one The 'Bush' may yield me Or may not Too late to choose again