This Is My Letter To The World

Noon - Is The Hinge Of Day-.

Nature Is What We Know - Yet Have Not Art To Say - So Impotent Our Wisdom Is To Her Simplicity.

My Faith Is Larger Than The Hills— So When The Hills Decay— My Faith Must Take The Purple Wheel To Show The Sun The Way— 'tis First He Steps Upon The Vane— And Then — Upon The Hill— And Then Abroad The World He Go To Do His Golden Will— And If His Yellow Feet Should Miss— The Bird Would Not Arise— The Flowers Would Slumber On Their Stems— No Bells Have Paradise— How Dare I, Therefore, Stint A Faith On Which So Vast Depends— Lest Firmament Should Fail For Me— The Rivet In The Bands

Dare You See A Soul At The White Heat?

They Say That “time Assuages” - Time Never Did Assuage - An Actual Suffering Strengthens As Sinews Do, With Age - Time Is A Test Of Trouble - But Not A Remedy - If Such It Prove, It Prove Too There Was No Malady