To feel that the same blue sky which my Soul with a

penetrating loneliness fills–to you, in gorgeous variety of

brilliant cloud-effect may seem, . . .

To feel that the moon and the stars, irrevocably tho'

on their celestial journey bound, are but proud messengers

of glad tidings from you to me, . . .

To feel that He, who in one quick second, in bright

crimson, behind yon purple hill descends–, to you, fresh and

dripping, from a glorious sea at red dawn may appear, . . .

To feel that all things in nature here, bright, beautiful,

and gay, are but counterparts of greater things over there, . . .

Is only to know: We are but Two Specks in one Vast,

Wide, Eternity.