A Secret, If It's Kept, Can Be

The Labor Into Which A Heart Has Poured Its Whole Love--where Will It Have Its Say, To Excite And Inspire, And When?

I Wonder What The Retirement Age Is In The Novel Business. The Day You Die.

The True Joy Of A Moonlit Night Is Something We No Longer Understand. Only The Men Of Old, When There Were No Lights, Could Understand The True Joy Of A Moonlit Night.

The Winter Moon Becomes A Companion, The Heart Of The Priest, Sunk In Meditation Upon Religion And Philosophy, There In The Mountain Hall, Is Engaged In A Delicate Interplay And Exchange With The Moon; And It Is This Of Which The Poet Sings.

Lunatics Have No Age. If We Were Crazy, You And I, We Might Be A Great Deal Younger.