Love Hath So Long Possessed Me For

Not One Drop Of Blood Is Left Inside My Veins That Does Not Throb: I Recognize Signs Of The Ancient Flame.

As Little Flowers, Which The Chill Of Night Has Bent And Huddled, When The White Sun Strikes, Grow Straight And Open Fully On Their Stems, So Did I, Too, With My Exhausted Force.

Love Insists The Loved Loves Back

Where The Way Is Hardest, There Go Thou; Follow Your Own Path And Let People Talk.

Love, That All Gentle Hearts So Quickly Know.