I can't be anonymous by reason of your confounded photographs. (To Julia Margaret Cameron)

And ah for a man to arise in me, That the man I am may cease to be!

A still small voice spake unto me, 'Thou art so full of misery, Were it not better not to be?

Come into the garden, Maud, For the black bat, night, has flown Come into the garden, Maud, I am here at the gate alone: And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad, And the musk of the rose is blown. For a breeze of morning moves, And the planet of Love is on high, Beginning to faint in the light that she loves On a bed of daffodil sky.

Rich in saving common-sense, And, as the greatest only are, In his simplicity sublime.

God made thee good as thou art beautiful.

Follow the deer? Follow the Christ the King. Live pure, speak true,right wrong, Follow the King-- Else, wherefore born?