A Human Act Once Set In Motion

The Sun Is Coming Down To Earth, And The Fields And The Waters Shout To Him Golden Shouts.

As We To The Brutes, Poets Are To Us.

For Singing Till His Heaven Fills, 'tis Love Of Earth That He Instills, And Ever Winging Up And Up, Our Valley Is His Golden Cup, And He The Wine Which Over Flows To Lift Us With Him As He Goes.

Earth Knows No Desolation. She Smells Regeneration In The Moist Breath Of Decay.

Kissing Don't Last: Cookery Do!