The Holy Night We sate among the stalls at Bethlehem; The dumb kine from their fodder turning them, Softened their horned faces To almost human gazes Toward the newly Born: The simple shepherds from the star-lit brooks Brought visionary looks, As yet in their astonied hearing rung The strange sweet angel-tongue: The magi of the East, in sandals worn, Knelt reverent, sweeping round, With long pale beards, their gifts upon the ground, The incense, myrrh, and gold These baby hands were impotent to hold: So let all earthlies and celestials wait Upon thy royal state. Sleep, sleep, my kingly One!

Thou large-brain'd woman and large-hearted man.

Books are men of higher stature, and the only men that speak aloud for future times to hear.

Whoever lives true life, will love true love.

Two human loves make one divine.

Earth's crammed with Heaven.

We can't separate our humanity from our poetry.