O For A Life Of Sensations Rather

Sudden A Thought Came Like A Full-blown Rose, Flushing His Brow.

O Solitude! If I Must With Thee Dwell, Let It Not Be Among The Jumbled Heap Of Murky Buildings

Soft Closer Of Our Eyes! Low Murmur Of Tender Lullabies!

I Always Made An Awkward Bow.

How Does The Poet Speak To Men With Power, But By Being Still More A Man Than They