I Felt It Shelter To

Death Is A Supple Suitor, That Wins At Last. It Is A Stealthy Wooing; Conducted First By Pallid Innuendos And Dim Approach, But Brave At Last With Bugles.

Drab Habitation Of Whom? Tabernacle Or Tomb - Or Dome Of Worm - Or Porch Of Gnome - Or Some Elf's Catacomb?

A Deed Knocks First At Thought And Then - It Knocks At Will - That Is The Manufacturing Spot.

I Cling To Nowhere Until I Fall - The Crash Of Nothing.

To Make A Prairie It Takes A Clover And One Bee, One Clover, And A Bee, And Revery. The Revery Alone Will Do, If Bees Are Few.