Children Use The Fist Until They Are

My Sun Sets To Raise Again.

O Pusillanimous Heart, Be Comforted And, Like A Cheerful Traveller, Take The Road Singing Beside The Hedge.

The English Have A Scornful Insular Way Of Calling The French Light.

I Would Build A Cloudy House For My Thoughts To Live In; When For Earth Too Fancy-loose And Too Low For Heaven! Hush! I Talk My Dream Aloud - I Build It Bright To See, - I Build It On The Moonlit Cloud, To Which I Looked With Thee.

You Smell A Rose Through A Fence: If Two Should Smell It, What Matter?