We All Scribble Poetry.

The Leader, Mingling With The Vulgar Host, Is In The Common Mass Of Matter Lost.

If You Are Very Valiant, It Is A God, I Think, Who Gave You This Gift.

...like That Star Of The Waning Summer Who Beyond All Stars Rises Bathed In The Ocean Stream To Glitter In Brilliance.

Over The Wine-dark Sea.

One Who Contends With Immortals Lives A Very Short Life.