Beauty Is Whatever Gives Joy.

To A Young Poet Time Cannot Break The Bird's Wing From The Bird. Bird And Wing Together Go Down, One Feather. No Thing That Ever Flew, Not The Lark, Not You, Can Die As Others Do.

Ah, Drink Again This River That Is The Taker-away Of Pain, And The Giver-back Of Beauty! In These Cool Waves What Can Be Lost?-- Only The Sorry Cost Of The Lovely Thing, Ah, Never The Thing Itself! The Level Flood That Laves The Hot Brow And The Stiff Shoulder Is At Our Temples Now. Gone Is The Fever, But Not Into The River; Melted The Frozen Pride, But The Tranquil Tide Runs Never The Warmer For This, Never The Colder. Immerse The Dream. Drench The Kiss. Dip The Song In The Stream.

Let Geese Gabble And Hiss, But Heroes Seek Release From Dusty Bondage Into Luminous Air.

The Englishman Foxtrots As He Fox-hunts, With All His Being, Through Thickets, Through Ditches, Over Hedges, Through Chiffons, Through Waiters, Over Saxophones, To The Victorious Finish; And Who Goes Home Depends On How Many The Ambulance Will Accommodate.

Pour Away Despair And Rinse The Cup. Eat Happiness Like Bread.