On The Ear Drops The Light Drip

I Live Not In Myself, But I Become Portion Of That Around Me: And To Me High Mountains Are A Feeling, But The Hum Of Human Cities Torture.

The Mellow Autumn Came, And With It Came The Promised Party, To Enjoy Its Sweets. The Corn Is Cut, The Manor Full Of Game; The Pointer Ranges, And The Sportsman Beats In Russet Jacket;--lynx-like Is His Aim; Full Grows His Bag, And Wonderful His Feats. An, Nutbrown Partridges! An, Brilliant Pheasants! And Ah, Ye Poachers!--'tis No Sport For Peasants.

I Stood Among Them, But Not Of Them: In A Shroud Of Thoughts Which Were Not Their Thoughts.

Parting Day Dies Like The Dolphin, Whom Each Pang Imbues With A New Colour As It Gasps Away, The Last Still Loveliest, Till-'t Is Gone, And All Is Gray.

Be Hypocritical, Be Cautious, Be Not What You Seem But Always What You See.