Of What I Call God, And Fools

There Are Those Who Believe Something, And Therefore Will Tolerate Nothing; And On The Other Hand, Those Who Tolerate Everything, Because They Believe Nothing.

Oh, To Be In England Now That April's There, And Whoever Wakes In England Sees, Some Morning, Unaware.

I Count Life Just A Stuff To Try The Soul's Strength On.

Kiss Me As If You Made Believe You Were Not Sure This Eve, How My Face, Your Flower, Had Pursed It's Petals Up.

I Write From A Thorough Conviction That It Is The Duty Of Me, And With The Belief That, After Every Drawback And Shortcoming, I Do My Best, All Things Considered--that Is For Me, And, So Being, The Not Being Listened To By One Human Creature Would, I Hope, In Nowise Affect Me.