Alas! When Passion Is Both Meek And

Here Are Sweet Peas, On Tiptoe For A Flight; With Wings Of Gentle Flush O'er Delicate White, And Taper Fingers Catching At All Things, To Bind Them All About With Tiny Rings.

I Always Made An Awkward Bow.

Do You Not See How Necessary A World Of Pains And Troubles Is To School An Intelligence And Make It A Soul?

The Genius Of Poetry Must Work Out Its Own Salvation In A Man; It Cannot Be Matured By Law And Precept, But By Sensation And Watchfulness In Itself. That Which Is Creative Must Create Itself.

I Equally Dislike The Favor Of The Public With The Love Of A Woman - They Are Both A Cloying Treacle To The Wings Of Independence.