Outside are the storms and strangers: we — Oh, close, safe, warm sleep I and she, — I and she!
Our interest's on the dangerous edge of things. The honest thief, the tender murderer, the superstitious atheist.
how sad and bad and mad it was - but then, how it was sweet
Who knows most, doubts most.
Still more labyrinthine buds the rose.
Oh never star Was lost here but it rose afar.