An Idea Is A Feat

For Hard It Is To Keep From Being King When It's In You And In The Situation.

I'd Like To Go By Climbing A Birch Tree~ And Climb Black Branches Up A Snow-white Trunk Toward Heaven, Till The Tree Could Bear No More, But Dipped Its Top And Set Me Down Again. That Would Be Good Both Going And Coming Back. One Could Do Worse Than Be A Swinger Of Birches.

You Know How Cunningly Mankind Is Planned: We Have One Loving And One Hating Hand. The Loving's Made To Hold Each Other Like, While With The Hating Other Hand We Strike.

The Trees That Have It In Their Pent-up Buds To Darken Nature And Be Summer Woods.

Everything Written Is As Good As It Is Dramatic. It Need Not Declare Itself In Form, But It Is Drama Or Nothing.