As If True Pride Were

Outside Are The Storms And Strangers: We — Oh, Close, Safe, Warm Sleep I And She, — I And She!

Make No More Giants, God!but Elevate The Race At Once!

All Poetry Is Putting The Infinite Within The Finite.

If You Get Simple Beauty And Naught Else, You Get About The Best Thing God Invents.

My Sun Sets To Rise Again.