What I Do And What I Dream

Alas, I Have Grieved So I Am Hard To Love. Yet Love Me--wilt Thou? Open Thine Heart Wide, And Fold Within, The Wet Wings Of Thy Dove.

But Since He Had The Genius To Be Loved, Why Let Him Have The Justice To Be Honoured In His Grave.

Mountain Gorses, Do Ye Teach Us . . . . That The Wisest Word Man Reaches Is The Humblest He Can Speak?

Large, Musing Eyes, Neither Joyous Nor Sorry.

Since When Was Genius Found Respectable?