Under Loves Heavy Burden Do I Sink.

I Have Nothing Of Woman In Me; Now From Head To Foot I Am Marble-constant.

He That Sleeps Feels Not The Tooth-ache

Mine Eyes Smell Onions: I Shall Weep Anon.

They That Have Voice Of Lions And Act Of Hares,--are They Not Monsters?

For The Poor Wren (the Most Diminutive Of Birds) Will Fight, Her Young Ones In Her Nest, Against The Owl.