And wilt thou have me fashion into speech The love I bear thee, finding words enough, And hold the torch out, while the winds are rough, Between our faces, to cast light on each? - I dropt it at thy feet. I cannot teach My hand to hold my spirits so far off From myself--me--that I should bring thee proof In words, of love hid in me out of reach. Nay, let the silence of my womanhood Commend my woman-love to thy belief, - Seeing that I stand unwon, however wooed, And rend the garment of my life, in brief, By a most dauntless, voiceless fortitude, Lest one touch of this heart convey its grief.

Light tomorrow with today!

If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange And be all to me?

If thou must love me, let it be for naught except for love's sake only.

There are nettles everywhere, but smooth, green grasses are more common still; the blue of heaven is larger than the cloud.

And Marlowe, Webster, Fletcher, Ben, Whose fire-hearts sowed our furrows when The world was worthy of such men.

But since he had The genius to be loved, why let him have The justice to be honoured in his grave.