Man,--the Aristocrat Amongst The Animals.

The Swan, Like The Soul Of The Poet, By The Dull World Is Ill Understood.

The Stones Here Speak To Me, And I Know Their Mute Language. Also, They Seem Deeply To Feel What I Think. So A Broken Column Of The Old Roman Times, An Old Tower Of Lombardy, A Weather- Beaten Gothic Piece Of A Pillar Understands Me Well. But I Am A Ruin Myself, Wandering Among Ruins.

The Spring's Already At The Gate With Looks My Care Beguiling; The Country Round Appeareth Straight A Flower-garden Smiling.

Tell Me Who First Did Kisses Suggest? It Was A Mouth All Glowing And Blest; It Kissed And It Thought Of Nothing Beside. The Fair Month Of May Was Then In Its Pride, The Flowers Were All From The Earth Fast Springing, The Sun Was Laughing, The Birds Were Singing.

Human Misery Is Too Great For Men To Die Without Faith.