What Will The Solemn Hemlock- What Will

Mirth Is The Mail Of Anguish --

Beauty Is Not The Cause Of Something, It Is What It Is.

I Felt A Cleaving In My Mind- As If My Brain Had Split- I Tried To Match It- Seam By Seam- But Could Not Make It Fit.

His Mind Of Man, A Secret Makes I Meet Him With A Start He Carries A Circumference In Which I Have No Part.

I Know Nothing In The World That Has As Much Power As A Word. Sometimes I Write One, And I Look At It, Until It Begins To Shine.