All Actual Heroes Are Essential Men, And

First Time He Kissed Me, He But Only Kissed The Fingers Of This Hand Wherewith I Write; And, Ever Since, It Grew More Clean And White.

When We First Met And Loved, I Did Not Build Upon The Event With Marble. . . .

Life, Struck Sharp On Death, Makes Awful Lightning.

Of Writing Many Books There Is No End.

The Essence Of All Beauty, I Call Love, The Attribute, The Evidence, And End, The Consummation To The Inward Sense Of Beauty Apprehended From Without, I Still Call Love.