A Late Lark Twitters From The Quiet

Now, To Read Poetry At All Is To Have An Ideal Anthology Of One's Own, And In That Possession To Be Incapable Of Content With The Anthologies Of All The World Besides.

Between The Dusk Of A Summer Night And The Dawn Of A Summer Day, We Caught At A Mood As It Passed In Flight, And We Bade It Stoop And Stay. And What With The Dawn Of Night Began With The Dusk Of Day Was Done; For That Is The Way Of Woman And Man, When A Hazard Has Made Them One. Arc Upon Arc, From Shade To Shine, The World Went Thundering Free; And What Was His Errand But Hers And Mine - The Lords Of Him, I And She? O, It's Die We Must, But It's Live We Can, And The Marvel Of Earth And Sun Is All For The Joy Of Woman And Man And The Longing That Makes Them One.

Life - Life - Life! 'tis The Sole Great Thing This Side Of Death, Heart On Heart In The Wonder Of Spring!

[t]hey Stretch You On A Table. Then They Bid You Close Your Eyelids, And They Mask You With A Napkin, And The Anæsthetic Reaches Hot And Subtle Through Your Being.

Madam Life's A Piece In Bloom Death Goes Dogging Everywhere: She's The Tenant Of The Room, He's The Ruffian On The Stair.