Sunrise: day's great progenitor.

I HIDE myself within my flower That wearing on your breast, You, unsuspecting, wear me too - And angels know the rest. I hide myself within my flower, That, fading from your vase, You, unsuspecting, feel for me Almost a loneliness.

The pedigree of honey does not concern the bee; A clover, any time, to him is aristocracy.

I tasted life.

Till it has loved, no man or woman can become itself.

Truth - is as old as God-.

How happy is the little stone That rambles in the road alone, And doesn't care about careers, And exigencies never fears; Whose coat of elemental brown A passing universe put on; And independent as the sun, Associates or glows alone, Fulfilling absolute decree In casual simplicity.