I Begin To Think That None Are

What Is Art But The Life Upon The Larger Scale, The Higher. When, Graduating Up In A Spiral Line Of Still Expanding And Ascending Gyres, It Pushes Toward The Intense Significance Of All Things, Hungry For The Infinite?

Gaze Up At The Stars Knowing That I See The Same Sky And Wish The Same Sweet Dreams.

You Smell A Rose Through A Fence: If Two Should Smell It, What Matter?

I Love Thee To The Depth And Breadth And Height My Soul Can Reach.

The Great Chasm Between The Thing I Say, And The Thing I Would Say, Would Be Quite Dispiriting To Me, In Spite Even Of Such Kindnesses As Yours, If The Desire Did Not Master The Despondency.