I Am Not As These Are, The

I Plucked A Honeysuckle Where The Hedge On High Is Quick With Thorn, And Climbing For The Prize, Was Torn, And Fouled My Feet In Quag-water; And By The Thorns And By The Wind The Blossom That I Took Was Thinn'd, And Yet I Found It Sweet And Fair.

Beauty Without The Beloved Is A Like A Sword Through The Heart.

At Length Their Long Kiss Severed, With Sweet Smart:and As The Last Slow Sudden Drops Are Shedfrom Sparkling Eaves When All The Storm Has Fled,so Singly Flagged The Pulses Of Each Heart.

Love Is The Last Relay And Ultimate Outposts Of Eternity.

The Sea Hath No King But God Alone.