The Human Creature Is Alone

I May Be Smelly And I May Be Old, Rough In My Pebbles, Reedy In My Pools, But Where My Fish Float By I Bless Their Swimming, And I Like The People To Bathe In Me Especially Women.

Unpopular, Lonely And Loving, Elinor Need Not Trouble, For If She Were Not So Loving, She Would Not Be So Miserable.

I Like Food, I Like Stripping Vegetables Of Their Skins, I Like To Have A Slim Young Parsnip Under My Knife.

I Made Man With Too Many Faults. Yet I Love Him. And If He Wishes, I Have A Home Above For Him.

Truth Is Far And Flat, And Fancy Is Fiery; And Truth Is Cold, And People Feel The Cold, And They May Wrap Themselves Against It In Fancies That Are Fiery, But They Should Not Call Them Facts; And, Generally, Poets Do Not; They Are Shrewd, They Feel The Cold, Too, But They Know A Hawk From A Handsaw, A Fact From A Fancy, As None Knows Better.