With A Sort Of Mental Squint.

I Wonder If The Snow Loves The Trees And Fields, That It Kisses Them So Gently? And Then It Covers Them Up Snug, You Know, With A White Quilt; And Perhaps It Says "go To Sleep, Darlings, Till The Summer Comes Again.

He Was Part Of My Dream, Of Course -- But Then I Was Part Of His Dream, Too.

There Comes A Pause, For Human Strength Will Not Endure To Dance Without Cessation; And Everyone Must Reach The Point At Length Of Absolute Prostration.

Take Care Of The Sense And The Sounds Will Take Care Of Themselves.

The Vast Unfathomable Sea Is But A Notion-unto Me.