Mountain Gorses, Do Ye Teach

Foolishness And Criticism Are So Apt, Do So Naturally Go Together!

My Patience Has Dreadful Chilblains From Standing So Long On A Monument.

Life Treads On Life, And Heart On Heart; We Press Too Close In Church And Mart To Keep A Dream Or Grave Apart.

Books Are Men Of Higher Stature, And The Only Men That Speak Aloud For Future Times To Hear.

And Wilt Thou Have Me Fashion Into Speech The Love I Bear Thee, Finding Words Enough, And Hold The Torch Out, While The Winds Are Rough, Between Our Faces, To Cast Light On Each? - I Dropt It At Thy Feet. I Cannot Teach My Hand To Hold My Spirits So Far Off From Myself--me--that I Should Bring Thee Proof In Words, Of Love Hid In Me Out Of Reach. Nay, Let The Silence Of My Womanhood Commend My Woman-love To Thy Belief, - Seeing That I Stand Unwon, However Wooed, And Rend The Garment Of My Life, In Brief, By A Most Dauntless, Voiceless Fortitude, Lest One Touch Of This Heart Convey Its Grief.