When I Have Fears That I May

Love In A Hut, With Water And A Crust, Is - Love, Forgive Us! - Cinders, Ashes, Dust.

Nor Do We Merely Feel These Essences For One Short Hour No, Even As These Trees That Whisper Round A Temple Become Soon Dear As The Temples Self, So Does The Moon, The Passion Posey, Glories Infinite, Haunt Us Till They Become A Cheering Light Unto Our Souls And Bound To Us So Fast, That Wheather There Be Shine, Or Gloom O'er Cast, They Always Must Be With Us, Or We Die.

Sudden A Thought Came Like A Full-blown Rose, Flushing His Brow.

So Let Me Be Thy Choir, And Make A Moan Upon The Midnight Hours.

My Love Is Selfish. I Cannot Breathe Without You.