My Soul's A Little Grief, Grappling Your

I Was A Boy When I First Realized That The Fullest Life Liveable Was A Poet's

Courage Was Mine, And I Had Mystery, Wisdom Was Mine, And I Had Mastery: To Miss The March Of This Retreating World Into Vain Citadels That Are Not Walled.

Heart, You Were Never Hot Nor Large, Nor Full Like Hearts Made Great With Shot

I Am Only Conscious Of Any Satisfaction In Scientific Reading Or Thinking When It Rounds Off Into A Poetical Generality And Vagueness.

These Men Are Worth Your Tears. You Are Not Worth Their Merriment.