His Religion At Best Is An Anxious

I Never Was In Love - Yet The Voice And The Shape Of A Woman Has Haunted Me These Two Days.

Parting They Seemed To Tread Upon The Air, Twin Roses By The Zephyr Blown Apart Only To Meet Again More Close.

Let Us Open Our Leaves Like A Flower, And Be Passive And Receptive.

Poetry Should Surprise By A Fine Excess And Not By Singularity, It Should Strike The Reader As A Wording Of His Own Highest Thoughts, And Appear Almost A Remembrance.

But The Rose Leaves Herself Upon The Brier, For Winds To Kiss And Grateful Bees To Feed.