One's Not Half Two. It's Two Are

You Have Played, (i Think) And Broke The Toys You Were Fondest Of, And Are A Little Tired Now; Tired Of Things That Break, And— Just Tired. So Am I.

It Is With Roses And Locomotives (not To Mention Acrobats Spring Electricity Coney Island The 4th Of July The Eyes Of Mice And Niagara Falls) That My Poems Are Competing.

Because You Aren't Afraid To Kiss The Dirt (and Consequently Dare To Climb The Sky)

Your Slightest Look Easily Will Unclose Me, Though I Have Closed Myself As Fingers, You Open Petal By Petal Myself A Spring Opens Her First Rose.

And This Is The Wonder That's Keeping The Stars Apart I Carry Your Heart [ I Carry It In My Heart ]