Good strong thick stupefying incense-smoke!
O lyric Love, half angel and half bird. And all a wonder and a wild desire.
But there are times when patience proves at fault.
Why comes temptation but for man to meet And master and make crouch beneath his foot, And so be pedestaled in triumph?
Autumn wins you best by this its mute appeal to sympathy for its decay.
But what if I fail of my purpose here? It is but to keep the nerves at strain, to dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall, and baffled, get up and begin again.