If Aims impel these Astral Ones The ones allowed to know Know that which makes them as forgot As Dawn forgets them now
Till it has loved, no man or woman can become itself.
You don't have to be a house to be haunted.
I felt a Cleaving in my Mind- As if my Brain had split- I tried to match it- Seam by Seam- But could not make it fit.
It is finished, is never said of us
I cannot help esteem The 'Bird within the Hand' Superior to the one The 'Bush' may yield me Or may not Too late to choose again