Beauty Crowds Me Till I Die.

A Little Madness In The Spring Is Wholesome Even For The King, But God Be With The Clown, Who Ponders This Tremendous Scene-- This Whole Experiment In Green, As If It Were His Own!

Nature Is What We Know - Yet Have Not Art To Say - So Impotent Our Wisdom Is To Her Simplicity.

If Aims Impel These Astral Ones The Ones Allowed To Know Know That Which Makes Them As Forgot As Dawn Forgets Them Now

I Died For Beauty--but Was Scarce Adjusted In The Tomb When One Who Died For Truth, Was Lain In An Adjoining Room

I Wonder If It Hurts To Live, And If They Have To Try, And Whether, Could They Choose Between, They Would Not Rather Die.