And death shall have no dominion. Under the windings of the sea They lying long shall not die windily; Twisting on racks when sinews give way, Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break; Faith in their hands shall snap in two, And the unicorn evils run them through; Split all ends up they shan't crack; And death shall have no dominion.

Beginning with doom in the bulb, the spring unravels.

The best poem is that whose worked-upon unmagical passages come closest, in texture and intensity, to those moments of magical accident.

You just wait. I'll sin 'til I blow up!

Somebody's boring me. I think it's me.

Life always offers you a second chance. is called tomorrow.

Cold beer is bottled God.