I Can't Help It, The Idea Of

Know That There Is Often Hidden In Us A Dormant Poet, Always Young And Alive.

Reason May Cure Illusions, But Not Suffering.

Repartee Is Altogether A Natural Endowment, And Is The Lightning Of The Mind.

As All The Perfumes Of The Vanished Dayrise From The Earth Still Moistened With The Dewso From My Chastened Soul Beneath Thy Rayold Love Is Born Anew.

In My Flowery Dreams There's Always You. I Do Not Regret It One Bit.