For Bees Are Captious Folk / And

I Miss You Even More Than I Could Have Believed; And I Was Prepared To Miss You A Good Deal.

Travel Is A Private Pleasure, Since It Consists Entirely Of Things Felt And Things Seen.

There Are No Signposts In The Sea.

I Loved You When Love Was Spring, And May, Loved You When Summer Deepened Into June, And Now When Autumn Yellows All The Leaves.

For Bees Are Captious Folk / And Quick To Turn Against The Lubber's Touch.