Earth's Crammed With Heaven.

If I Leave All For Thee, Wilt Thou Exchange And Be All To Me?

Folded Eyes See Brighter Colors Than The Open Ever Do.

A Grave, On Which To Rest From Singing?

Since When Was Genius Found Respectable?

Enough! We're Tired, My Heart And I. We Sit Beside The Headstone Thus, And Wish That Name Were Carved For Us. The Moss Reprints More Tenderly The Hard Types Of The Mason's Knife, As Heaven's Sweet Life Renews Earth's Life With Which We're Tired, My Heart And I .... In This Abundant Earth No Doubt Is Little Room For Things Worn Out: Disdain Them, Break Them, Throw Them By! And If Before The Days Grew Rough We Once Were Loved, Used, - Well Enough, I Think, We've Fared, My Heart And I.