That love is all there is; is all we know of love. It is enough; the freight should be proportioned to the groove. - Emily Dickinson

That Love is all there is,
Is all we know of Love

We grow accustomed to the dark when light is put away —

I died for Beauty — but was scarce Adjusted in the Tomb, When One who died for Truth, was lain In an adjoining Room — He questioned softly "Why I failed"? "For Beauty," I replied. "And I — for Truth, — Themself are One — We Brethren, are", He said —

She dwelleth in the Ground — Where Daffodils — abide — Her Maker — Her Metropolis — The Universe — Her Maid — To fetch Her Grace — and Hue — And Fairness — and Renown — The Firmament's — To Pluck Her — And fetch Her Thee — be mine —