468 The Manner of its Death When Certain it must die— ’Tis deemed a privilege to choose— ’Twas Major Andre’s Way—

To see her is a Picture— To hear her is a Tune— To know her an Intemperance As innocent as June— To know her not—Affliction—

107 ’Twas such a little—little boat That toddled down the bay! ’Twas such a gallant—gallant sea That beckoned it away!

Judgment is justest When the Judged, His action laid away, Divested is of every Disk But his sincerity.

Between My Country—and the Other… There is a Sea— But Flowers—negotiate between us— As Ministry.

968 Fitter to see Him, I may be For the long Hindrance—Grace—to… With Summers, and with Winters, g… Some passing Year—A trait bestow

635 I think the longest Hour of all Is when the Cars have come— And we are waiting for the Coach— It seems as though the Time

353 A happy lip—breaks sudden— It doesn’t state you how It contemplated—smiling— Just consummated—now—

He ate and drank the precious Wor… His Spirit grew robust— He knew no more that he was poor, Nor that his frame was Dust— He danced along the dingy Days

780 The Truth—is stirless— Other force—may be presumed to mov… This—then—is best for confidence— When oldest Cedars swerve—

881 I’ve none to tell me to but Thee So when Thou failest, nobody. It was a little tie— It just held Two, nor those it he…