Behavior Is What A Man Does, Not

Further In Summer Than The Birds Pathetic From The Grass A Minor Nation Celebrates Its Unobtrusive Mass. No Ordinance Be Seen So Gradual The Grace A Pensive Custom It Becomes Enlarging Loneliness. Antiquest Felt At Noon When August Burning Low Arise This Spectral Canticle Repose To Typify Remit As Yet No Grace No Furrow On The Glow Yet A Druidic Difference Enhances Nature Now.

When He Tells Us About His Father, We Distrust Him. When He Shows Us His Home, We Turn Away, But When He Confides To Us That He Is Acquainted With Grief, We Listen, For That Also Is An Acquaintance Of Our Own.

Inebriate Of Air Am I, And Debauchee Of Dew, Reeling, Through Endless Summer Days, From Inns Of Molten Blue.

What Soft--cherubic Creatures-- These Gentlewomen Are-- One Would As Soon Assault A Plush-- Or Violate A Star

Beauty Crowds Me Till I Die.