I have an appetite for silence.

Heart, we will forget him, You and I, tonight! You must forget the warmth he gave, I will forget the light.

MY river runs to thee: Blue sea, wilt welcome me? My river waits reply. Oh sea, look graciously! I ’ll fetch thee brooks From spotted nooks,— Say, sea, Take me!

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

I died for beauty but was scarce Adjusted in the tomb, When one who died for truth was lain In an adjoining room. He questioned softly why I failed? "For beauty," I replied. "And I for truth, the two are one; We brethren are," he said. And so, as kinsmen met a night, We talked between the rooms, Until the moss had reached our lips, And covered up our names.

The Things that never can come back, are several - Childhood - some forms of Hope - the Dead.

Judge tenderly of me.