You have been mine before - How long ago I may not know: But just when at that swallow's soar, your neck turned so, Some veil did fall, - I knew it all of yore.

Sometimes thou seem'st not as thyself alone, But as the meaning of all things that are.

Your eyes smile peace.

The Wombat is a Joy, a Triumph, a Delight, a Madness!

Was it a friend or foe that spread these lies; Nay, who but infants question in such wise, twas one of my most intimate enemies.

Sudden Light I have been here before, But when or how I cannot tell: I know the grass beyond the door, The sweet keen smell, The sighing sound, the light around the shore.

It is beautiful, the world, and life itself. I am glad I have lived.