One's Own Surroundings Means So

Poetry Ennobles The Heart And The Eyes, And Unveils The Meaning Of All Things Upon Which The Heart And The Eyes Dwell. It Discovers The Secret Rays Of The Universe, And Restores To Us Forgotten Paradises.

I'm Afraid I'm Being An Awful Nuisance.

Our Hearts Seemed Safe In Our Breasts And Sang To The Light The Marrow In The Bone We Dreamed Was Safe. . . The Blood In The Veins, The Sap In The Tree Were Springs Of Deity.

Said The Sun To The Moon-'when You Are But A Lonely White Crone, And I, A Dead King In My Golden Armour Somewhere In A Dark Wood, Remember Only This Of Our Hopeless Love That Never Till Time Is Done Will The Fire Of The Heart And The Fire Of The Mind Be One

The Poet Is The Complete Lover Of Mankind.