The People Only Understand What They Can

Thou Makest The Man, O Sorrow!--yes, The Whole Man,--as The Crucible Gold.

Habit With It's Iron Sinews, Clasps Us And Leads Us Day By Day.

Shall Not This Bygone Eden That We Knew In Our Eternal Life Have Shape And Hue? For Where Time Is Not Shall Not All Time Be? In That Calm Breast Whereto Our Souls Are Cleaving Shall We Not Find Our Loved Ones Beyond Grieving About The Hearth-stone Of Eternity?

Mystery Hovers Over All Things Here Below.

The Attractiveness That Exists To Man In The Very Helplessness Of Woman Is Scarcely Realized.