Time is short and full, like an outgrown Frock - .

How softly summer shuts, without the creaking of a door.

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

I stepped from plank to plank So slow and cautiously; The stars about my head I felt, About my feet the sea. I knew not but the next Would be my final inch,— This gave me that precarious gait Some call experience.

The power to console is not within corporeal reach - though its attempt is precious.

The Truth never flaunted a sign.

Love is everything. And that's all we know about it.