Earth Knows No Desolation. She Smells Regeneration

She Whom I Love Is Hard To Catch And Conquer, Hard, But O The Glory Of The Winning Were She Won!

Friendship, I Fancy, Means One Heart Between Two.

Lowly, With A Broken Neck, The Crocus Lays Her Cheek To Mire.

Could I Find A Place To Be Alone With Heaven, I Would Speak My Heart Out Heaven Is My Need.

But O The Truth, The Truth. The Many Eyes That Look On It The Diverse Things They See.