That It Will Never Come Again Is

His Cheek Is His Biographer- As Long As He Can Blush.

When A Lover Is A Beggar Abject Is His Knee. When A Lover Is An Owner Different Is He.

Somewhere In My Soul A Thought Went Up In My Mind Today That I Have Had Before, But Did Not Finish, Some Way Back, I Could Not Fix The Year. Nor Where It Went, Nor Why It Came The Second Time To Me, Nor Definetly What It Was, Have I The Art To Say. But Somewhere In My Soul, I Know I've Met The Thing Before; It Just Reminded Me-' Twas All'-and Came My Way No More.

The Career Of Flowers Differs From Ours Only Inaudibleness.

The Poet Lights The Light And Fades Away. But The Light Goes On And On.