And he whose soul is flat -- the sky Will cave in on him by and by.

When you are corn and roses and at rest I shall endure, a dense and sanguine ghost To haunt the scene where I was happiest To bend above the thing I loved the most

What should I be but just what I am?

... but the rain Is full of ghosts tonight

Life isn't all beer and skittles; few of us have touched a skittle in years.

You see, I am a poet, and not quite right in the head, darling. It’s only that.

My candle burns at both ends; it will not last the night; but ah, my foes, and oh, my friends - it gives a lovely light!