Evil Alone Has Oil For Every Wheel.

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.

But You Were Something More Than Young And Sweet And Fair, - And The Long Year Remembers You.

My Candle Burns At Both Ends; It Will Not Last The Night; But Ah, My Foes, And Oh, My Friends - It Gives A Lovely Light!

Her Lawn Looks Like A Meadow, And If She Mows The Place She Leaves The Clover Standing And The Queen Anne's Lace.

I Am Waylaid By Beauty.