But You Might As Well

I Lingered Round Them, Under That Benign Sky; Watched The Moths Fluttering Among The Heath And Hare-bells; Listened To The Soft Wind Breathing Through The Grass; And Wondered How Anyone Could Ever Imagine Unquiet Slumbers For The Sleepers In That Quiet Earth.

I Cannot Express It: But Surely You And Everybody Have A Notion That There Is, Or Should Be, An Existence Of Yours Beyond You.

Proud People Breed Sad Sorrows For Themselves. But If You Be Afraid Of Your Touchiness, You Must Ask Pardon, Mind, When She Comes In.

In Secret Pleasure — Secret Tears This Changeful Life Has Slipped Away

Thoughts Are Tyrants That Return Again And Again To Torment Us.