Are Not The Mountains, Waves, And Skies

Are Not The Mountains, Waves, And Skies As Much A Part Of Me, As I Of Them?

Kill A Man's Family, And He May Brook It, But Keep Your Hands Out Of His Breeches' Pocket.

He Had Kept The Whiteness Of His Soul, And Thus Men O'er Him Wept.

Oh! Too Convincing--dangerously Dear-- In Woman's Eye The Unanswerable Tear! That Weapon Of Her Weakness She Can Wield, To Save, Subdue--at Once Her Spear And Shield.

A Rose With All Its Sweetest Leaves Yet Folded.