To Prolong Doubt Was To

We Wove A Web In Childhood, A Web Of Sunny Air; We Dug A Spring In Infancy Of Water Pure And Fair; We Sowed In Youth A Mustard Seed, We Cut An Almond Rod; We Are Now Grown Up To Riper Age— Are They Withered In The Sod?

Her Coming Was My Hope Each Day, Her Parting Was My Pain; The Chance That Did Her Steps Delay Was Ice In Every Vein.

You, Jane, I Must Have You For My Own--entirely My Own.

I Think You Will Learn To Be Natural With Me, As I Find It Impossible To Be Conventional With You

Die Without Me If You Will. Live For Me If You Dare.