The Sea Hath No King But God

And Love, Our Light At Night And Shade At Noon,lulls Us To Rest With Songs, And Turns Awayall Shafts Of Shelterless Tumultuous Day.

The Wombat Is A Joy, A Triumph, A Delight, A Madness!

Her Hair That Lay Along Her Back Was Yellow Like Ripe Corn.

Still We Say As We Go,-"strange To Think By The Waywhatever There Is To Know,that Shall We Know One Day.

Tis Visible Silence, Still As The Hour-glass.