Cities, Like Cats, Will Reveal Themselves At

Spend In Pure Converse Our Eternal Day; Think Each In Each, Immediately Wise; Learn All We Lacked Before; Hear, Know, And Say What This Tumultuous Body Now Denies; And Feel, Who Have Laid Our Groping Hands Away; And See, No Longer Blinded By Our Eyes.

Stands The Church Clock At Ten To Three? And Is There Honey Still For Tea?

There Are Only Three Things In The World, One Is To Read Poetry, Another Is To Write Poetry, And The Best Of All Is To Live Poetry.

I Have Need To Busy My Heart With Quietude.

In Your Arms Was Still Delight, Quiet As A Street At Night; And Thoughts Of You, I Do Remember, Were Green Leaves In A Darkened Chamber, Were Dark Clouds In A Moonless Sky.