Unto The Man Of Yearning Thought And

Deep In The Sun-searched Growths The Dragon-fly Hangs Like A Blue Thread Loosened From The Sky: So This Winged Hour Is Dropt To Us From Above. Oh! Clasp We To Our Hearts, For Deathless Dower, This Close-companioned Inarticulate Hour When Twofold Silence Was The Song Of Love.

The Sea Hath No King But God Alone.

Gather A Shell From The Strewn Beach And Listen At Its Lips: They Sigh The Same Desire And Mystery, The Echo Of The Whole Sea's Speech.

The Wombat Is A Joy, A Triumph, A Delight, A Madness!

Look In My Face; My Name Is Might-have-been; I Am Also Call'd No-more, Too-late, Farewell.