What We Call Life Is A Condition

There, That Is Our Secret: Go To Sleep! You Will Wake, And Remember, And Understand.

But I Love You, Sir: And When A Woman Says She Loves A Man, The Man Must Hear Her, Though He Love Her Not.

There Are Nettles Everywhere, But Smooth, Green Grasses Are More Common Still; The Blue Of Heaven Is Larger Than The Cloud.

Enough! We're Tired, My Heart And I. We Sit Beside The Headstone Thus, And Wish That Name Were Carved For Us. The Moss Reprints More Tenderly The Hard Types Of The Mason's Knife, As Heaven's Sweet Life Renews Earth's Life With Which We're Tired, My Heart And I .... In This Abundant Earth No Doubt Is Little Room For Things Worn Out: Disdain Them, Break Them, Throw Them By! And If Before The Days Grew Rough We Once Were Loved, Used, - Well Enough, I Think, We've Fared, My Heart And I.

The Denial Of Contemporary Genius Is The Rule Rather Than The Exception. No One Counts The Eagles In The Nest, Till There Is A Rush Of Wings; And Lo! They Are Flown.