For I Have Had Too

Live And Let Live, Believe And Let Believe. 'twas Said The Lesser Gods Were Only Traits Of The One Awful God. Just So The Saints Are God's White Light Refracted Into Colors.

Nearly Everybody Is Looking For Something Brave To Do. I Don't Know Why People Shouldn't Write Poetry. That's Brave.

Loosely Bound By Countless Silken Ties Of Love And Thought To Everything On Earth The Compass Round

The Only Way Round Is Through.

I See For Nature No Defeat In One Tree's Overthrow Or For Myself In My Retreat For Yet Another Blow.