Through The Sad Heart Of

Through Buried Paths, Where Sleepy Twilight Dreams The Summer Time Away.

But Let Me See Thee Stoop From Heaven On Wings That Fill The Sky With Silver Glitterings!

I Myself Am Pursuing The Same Instinctive Course As The Veriest Human Animal You Can Think Of I Am, However Young, Writing At Random Straining At Particles Of Light In The Midst Of A Great Darkness Without Knowing The Bearing Of Any One Assertion, Of Any One Opinion. Yet May I Not In This Be Free From Sin?

That Which Is Creative Must Create Itself.

Bards Of Passion And Of Mirth, Ye Have Left Your Souls On Earth! Have Ye Souls In Heaven Too, Double-lived In Regions New?