I am nobody! Who are you? Are you a nobody, too?

These are the days when birds come back, a very few, a Bird or two, to take a backward look.

I felt it shelter to speak to you.

I held a jewel in my fingers And went to sleep. The day was warm, and winds were prosy; I said: "'T will keep." I woke and chid my honest fingers,— The gem was gone; And now an amethyst remembrance Is all I own.

I must go in, the fog is rising.

To multiply the harbors does not reduce the sea.

But a Book is only the Heart's Portrait- every Page a Pulse.