I want a brighter word than bright

I must choose between despair and Energy──I choose the latter.

Whatever the imagination seizes as Beauty must be truth -whether it existed before or not

I see a lily on thy brow, With anguish moist and fever dew; And on thy cheek a fading rose Fast withereth too.

Poetry should be great and unobtrusive, a thing which enters into one's soul, and does not startle it or amaze it with itself, but with its subject.

Through the dancing poppies stole A breeze, most softly lulling to my soul.

All clean and comfortable I sit down to write.