See The Sun! God's Crest

Surely The Stars Are Images Of Love.

A Poet Not In Love Is Out At Sea; He Must Have A Lay-figure.

Night Comes, World-jewelled, . . . The Stars Rush Forth In Myriads As To Wage War With The Lines Of Darkness; And The Moon, Pale Ghost Of Night, Comes Haunting The Cold Earth After The Sun's Red Sea-death--quietless.

Could I Love Less, I Should Be Happier Now.

We Live In Deeds, Not Years; In Thoughts, Not Breaths; In Feelings, Not In Figures On A Dial.