The Cloud Shadows Of Midnight Possess Their

A Story Of Particular Facts Is A Mirror Which Obscures And Distorts That Which Should Be Beautiful; Poetry Is A Mirror Which Makes Beautiful That Which It Distorts.

Rulers, Who Neither See, Nor Feel, Nor Know, But Leech-like To Their Fainting Country Cling, Till They Drop, Blind In Blood, Without A Blow, - A People Starved And Stabbed In The Untilled Field.

Gold Is A Living God And Rules In Scorn, All Earthly Things But Virtue.

Nothing Of Him That Doth Fade But Doth Suffer A Sea-change Into Something Rich And Strange

Nought May Endure But Mutability.