How Lucious Lies The Pea Within The

I Have A Bird In Spring Which For Myself Doth Sing - The Spring Decoys. And As The Summer Nears - And As The Rose Appears, Robin Is Gone. Yet Do I Not Repine Knowing That Bird Of Mine Though Flown - Learneth Beyond The Sea Melody New For Me And Will Return.

The Heart Asks Pleasure--first-- And Then--excuse From Pain

The Soul Selects Her Own Society.

If I Feel Physically As If The Top Of My Head Were Taken Off, I Know That Is Poetry.

I Would Paint A Portrait Which Would Bring The Tears, Had I Canvas For It, And The Scene Should Be -- Solitude, And The Figures -- Solitude -- And The Lights And Shades, Each A Solitude.