Exists No Miracle Mightier Than This: To

One Pierced Moment Whiter Than The Rest -turning From The Tremendous Lie Of Sleep I Watch The Roses Of The Day Grow Deep.

It's Spring When The World Is Puddle-wonderful

All Ignorance Toboggans Into Know And Trudges Up To Ignorance Again.

It May Not Always Be So; And I Say That If Your Lips, Which I Have Loved, Should Touch Another's, And Your Dear Strong Fingers Clutch His Heart, As Mine In Time Not Far Away; If On Another's Face Your Sweet Hair Lay In Such A Silence As I Know,or Such Great Writhing Words As, Uttering Overmuch, Stand Helplessly Before The Spirit At Bay; If This Should Be, I Say If This Should Be- You Of My Heart, Send Me A Little Word; That I May Go Unto Him, And Take His Hands, Saying, Accept All Happiness From Me. Then Shall I Turn My Face,and Hear One Bird Sing Terribly Afar In The Lost Lands.

Suppose Life Is An Old Man Carrying Flowers On His Head.