Dead Men Would Start And Move Toward

Ah Love Is Bitter And Sweet, But Which Is More Sweet The Bitterness Or The Sweetness, None Has Spoken It.

The Elixir Of Life, The Philosopher's Stone Is Yours If You Surrender Sterile Logic, Trivial Reason.

I Smiled, I Waited, I Was Circumspect; O Never, Never, Never Write That I Missed Life Or Loving.

Love Has No Charm When Love Is Swept To Earth: You'd Make A Lop-winged God, Frozen And Contrite, Of God Up-darting, Winged For Passionate Flight.

She Did Not Look At The Daffodils. They Didn't Mean Anything. She Looked At The Daffodils. She Said, 'thank You For The Daffodils.