Even With One Companion Ecstasy Is Almost

I Consider My Selfbeing ... That Taste Of Myself, Of I And Me Above And In All Things, Which Is More Distinctive Than The Taste Of Ale Or Alum, More Distinctive Than The Smell Of Walnutleaf Or Camphor, And Is Incommunicable By Any Means To Another Man.

I Can Scarcely Fancy Myself To Ask A Superior To Publish A Volume Of My Verse And I Own That Humanly There Is Very Little Likelihood Of That Ever Coming To Pass. And To Be Sure If I Chose To Look At Things On One Side And Not The Other I Could Of Course Regret This Bitterly. But There Is More Peace And It Isthe Holier Lot To Be Unknown Than To Be Known.

All The World Is Full Of Inscape And Chance Left Free To Act Falls Into An Order As Well As Purpose.

I Wake And Feel The Fell Of Dark, Not Day. What Hours, O What Black Hours We Have Spent This Night!

Ask Of Her, The Mighty Mother. Her Reply Puts This Other Question: What Is Spring?- Growth In Every Thing - Flesh And Fleece, Fur And Feather, Grass And Green World All Together, Star-eyed Strawberry Breasted Throstle Above Her Nested Cluster Of Bugle Blue Eggs Thin Forms And Warms The Life Within, And Bird And Blossom Swell In Sod Or Sheath Or Shell.