Whatever's Lost, It First Was

The Essence Of All Beauty, I Call Love.

And Marlowe, Webster, Fletcher, Ben, Whose Fire-hearts Sowed Our Furrows When The World Was Worthy Of Such Men.

Earth's Crammed With Heaven.

Our Euripides The Human, With His Droppings Of Warm Tears, And His Touchings Of Things Common Till They Rose To Meet The Spheres.

A Good Neighbor Sometimes Cuts Your Morning Up To Mince-meat Of The Very Smallest Talk, Then Helps To Sugar Her Bohea At Night With Your Reputation.