'tis An Awkward Thing To Play With

Genius Has Somewhat Of The Infantine; But Of The Childish Not A Touch Or Taint.

Rejoice That Man Is Hurled, From Change To Change Unceasingly, His Soul's Wings Never Furled!

Ignorance Is Not Innocence But Sin.

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

In Heaven I Yearn For Knowledge, Account All Else Inanity; On Earth I Confess An Itch For The Praise Of Fools - That's Vanity