I am one of the lingering bad ones, and so do I slink away, and pause, and ponder, and ponder, and pause, and do work without knowing why - not surely for this brief world, and more sure it is not for heaven - and I ask what this message of Christ means.

I dwell in possiblities.

Nothing more do I ask than to share with you the ecstasy and sacrament of my life.

I lost a world the other day. Has anybody found? You'll know it by the rows of stars around it's forehead bound. A rich man might not notice it; yet to my frugal eye of more esteem than ducats. Oh! Find it, sir, for me!

If Aims impel these Astral Ones The ones allowed to know Know that which makes them as forgot As Dawn forgets them now

A power of Butterfly must be - The Aptitude to fly Meadows of Majesty concedes And easy Sweeps of Sky -

The truth I do not dare to know I muffle with a jest.