How Oft A Summer Shower Has Started

Into The Nothingness Of Scorn And Noise, Into The Living Sea Of Waking Dreams, Where There Is Neither Sense Of Life Or Joys, But The Vast Shipwreck Of My Life's Esteems; And E'en The Dearest--that I Love The Best-- Are Strange--nay, Rather Stranger Than The Rest.

I Ne'er Was Struck Before That Hour With Love So Sudden And So Sweet. Her Face It Bloomed Like A Sweet Flower And Stole My Heart Away Complete

I Am: Yet What I Am None Cares Or Knows, My Friends Forsake Me Like A Memory Lost; I Am The Self-consumer Of My Woes, They Rise And Vanish In Oblivious Host, Like Shades In Love And Death's Oblivion Lost; And Yet I Am, And Live With Shadows Tost.

Love Lives With Nature, Not With Lust. Go Find Her In The Flowers.

So Dull And Dark Are The November Days. The Lazy Mist High Up The Evening Curled, And Now The Morn Quite Hides In Smoke And Haze; The Place We Occupy Seems All The World.