Love In A Hut, With Water And

The Grandeur Of The Dooms We Have Imagined For The Mighty Dead.

Much Have I Traveled In The Realms Of Gold, And Many Goodly States And Kingdoms Seen.

Then Felt I Like Some Watcher Of The Skies When A New Planet Swims Into His Ken.

My Passions Are All Asleep From My Having Slumbered Till Nearly Eleven And Weakened The Animal Fiber All Over Me To A Delightful Sensation About Three Degrees On This Sight Of Faintness - If I Had Teeth Of Pearl And The Breath Of Lilies I Should Call It Languor - But As I Am I Must Call It Laziness. In This State Of Effeminacy The Fibers Of The Brain Are Relaxed In Common With The Rest Of The Body, And To Such A Happy Degree That Pleasure Has No Show Of Enticement And Pain No Unbearable Frown. Neither Poetry, Nor Ambition, Nor Love Have Any Alertness Of Countenance As They Pass By Me.

A Moment's Thought Is Passion's Passing Knell.