It Is Odd But Agitation Or Contest

Well, Well, The World Must Turn Upon Its Axis, And All Mankind Turn With It, Heads Or Tails, And Live And Die, Make Love And Pay Our Taxes, And As The Veering Winds Shift, Shift Our Sails.

A Rose With All Its Sweetest Leaves Yet Folded.

For A Man To Become A Poet (witness Petrarch And Dante), He Must Be In Love, Or Miserable.

Ye Stars! Which Are The Poetry Of Heaven!

Are Not The Mountains, Waves, And Skies As Much A Part Of Me, As I Of Them?