Alas! When Passion Is Both Meek And

A Long Poem Is A Test Of Invention Which I Take To Be The Polar Star Of Poetry, As Fancy Is The Sails, And Imagination The Rudder.

The Feel Of Not To Feel It, When There Is None To Heal It Nor Numbed Sense To Steel It.

Love Is My Religion - I Could Die For It.

Souls Of Poets Dead And Gone, What Elysium Have Ye Known, Happy Field Or Mossy Cavern, Choicer Than The Mermaid Tavern? Have Ye Tippled Drink More Fine Than Mine Host's Canary Wine?

I Am Sailing With Thee Through The Dizzy Sky! How Beautiful Thou Art!