I Do Not Feel I Could Give

The Abdication Of Belief Makes The Behavior Small- Better An Ignis Fatuus Than No Illume At All.

A Wounded Deer Leaps The Highest.

You Are Nipping In The Bud Fancies Which I Let Blossom. The Shore Is Safer, But I Love To Buffet The Sea - I Can Count The Bitter Wrecks Here In These Pleasant Waters, And Hear The Murmuring Winds, But Oh, I Love The Danger!

Lest I Should Be Old-fashioned, I'll Put A Trinket On.

You Left Me Boundaries Of Pain Capacious As The Sea, Between Eternity And Time, Your Consciousness And Me.