Or help one fainting RobinUnto his Nest againI shall not live in vain.
Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul…
A great hope fellYou heard no noiseThe ruin was within.
I like the look of agony, because I know it’s true
Tell all the Truth, but tell it slant/Success in Circuit lies…
The Soul selects her own Society—Then—shuts the Door—To her divine Majority—Present no more—Unmoved—she notes the Chariots—pausing—At her low Gate—Unmoved—an Emperor be kneelingUpon her Mat—I’ve known her—from an ample nation—Choose One—Then—close the Valves of her attention—Like...
But it is growing damp and I must go in. Memory’s fog is rising.
The Heart wants what it wants – or else it does not care
Nature is a haunted house–but Art–is a house that tries to be haunted.
A word is dead when it’s been said, some say. I say it just begins to live that day.
That I shall love always, I argue theethat love is life,and life hath immortality
Todo lo que sabemos del amor es que el amor es todo lo que hay.
Kein Schiff trägt uns besser in ferne Länder, als ein Buch.