The Grandeur Of The Dooms

I Find I Cannot Exist Without Poetry

All My Clear-eyed Fish, Golden, Or Rainbow-sided, Or Purplish, Vermilion-tail'd, Or Finn'd With Silvery Gauze... My Charming Rod, My Potent River Spells.

The Excellence Of Every Art Is Its Intensity.

Dancing Music, Music Sad, Both Together, Sane And Mad.

But The Rose Leaves Herself Upon The Brier, For Winds To Kiss And Grateful Bees To Feed.