Alas! When Passion Is Both Meek And

I Find I Cannot Exist Without Poetry

To Feel Forever Its Soft Fall And Swell, Awake For Ever In A Sweet Unrest, Still, Still To Hear Her Tender-taken Breath, And So Live Ever-or Else Swoon In Death.

How Does The Poet Speak To Men With Power, But By Being Still More A Man Than They

Now A Soft Kiss - Aye, By That Kiss, I Vow An Endless Bliss.

Praise Or Blame Has But A Momentary Effect On The Man Whose Love Of Beauty In The Abstract Makes Him A Severe Critic On His Own Works.