My Patience Has Dreadful Chilblains From Standing

God Answers Sharp And Sudden On Some Prayers, And Thrusts The Thing We Have Prayed For In Our Face, A Gauntlet With A Gift In It.

The Beautiful Seems Right By Force Of Beauty And The Feeble Wrong Because Of Weakness.

Of Writing Many Books There Is No End; And I Who Have Written Much In Prose And Verse For Others' Uses, Will Write Now For Mine,- Will Write My Story For My Better Self, As When You Paint Your Portrait For A Friend, Who Keeps It In A Drawer And Looks At It Long After He Has Ceased To Love You, Just To Hold Together What He Was And Is.

His Ears Were Often The First Thing To Catch My Tears.

Will That Light Come Again, As Now These Tears Come...falling Hot And Real!