You Are Always New To Me.

Is There Another Life? Shall I Awake And Find All This A Dream? There Must Be We Cannot Be Created For This Sort Of Suffering.

... For, By All The Stars That Tend Thy Bidding, I Do Think The Bars That Kept My Spirit In Are Burst - That I Am Sailing With Thee Through The Dizzy Sky! How Beautiful Thou Art!

The Genius Of Poetry Must Work Out Its Own Salvation In A Man; It Cannot Be Matured By Law And Precept, But By Sensation And Watchfulness In Itself. That Which Is Creative Must Create Itself.

I Never Was In Love - Yet The Voice And The Shape Of A Woman Has Haunted Me These Two Days.

I Am Sailing With Thee Through The Dizzy Sky! How Beautiful Thou Art!