Edith M. Thomas
The god of music dwelleth out of doors.Collection: Doors
Treasure the shadow. ... There are no shadows save from substance cast.Collection: Shadow
To Death I yield, but not to Doubt, who slays before!Collection: Yield
Who turns away from gazing at the sun Sees its dusk images fill all the air. It is not otherwise when Hope is done: Her darkling phantoms make the heaven of Despair.Collection: Hope
The spirit of the year, like bacchant crowned, With lighted torch goes careless on his way; And soon bursts into flame the maple's spray, And vines are running fire along the ground.Collection: Running
I follow my law and fulfil it all duly and look! when your doubt runneth high North points to the needle!Collection: Law