Exclusiveness In A Garden Is A Mistake

So, Timely You Came, And Well You Chose, You Came When Most Needed, My Winter Rose. From The Snow I Pluck You, And Fondly Press Your Leaves 'twixt The Leaves Of My Leaflessness.

In Vain Would Science Scan And Trace Firmly Her Aspect. All The While, There Gleams Upon Her Far-off Face A Vague Unfathomable Smile.

Public Opinion Is No More Than This: What People Think That Other People Think.

Though My Verse But Roam The Air And Murmur In The Trees, You May Discern A Purpose There, As In Music Of The Bees.

Perhaps A Maiden's Bashfulness Is More A Matron's Lesson Than Our Lips Aver.