From '41 To '51i Was

What Am I, Life? A Thing Of Watery Salt Held In Cohesion By Unresting Cells, Which Work They Know Not Why, Which Never Halt, Myself Unwitting Where Their Master Dwells?

Commonplace People Dislike Tragedy Because They Dare Not Suffer And Cannot Exult.

When Life Knocks At The Door No One Can Wait, When Death Makes His Arrest We Have To Go.

Love Is A Flame To Set The Will On Fire

On The Long Dusty Ribbon Of The Long City Street, The Pageant Of Life Is Passing Me On Multitudinous Feet, With A Word Here Of The Hills, And A Song There Of The Sea And-the Great Movement Changes-the Pageant Passes Me.