Fame Is A Fickle Food Upon A

Spring Is The Period Express From God.

I Dwell In Possibility.

And Then--a Day As Huge As Yesterdays In Pairs, Unrolled Its Horror In My Face-- Until It Blocked My Eyes

You Ask Of My Companions. Hills, Sir, And The Sundown, And A Dog As Large As Myself.

I Died For Beauty But Was Scarce Adjusted In The Tomb, When One Who Died For Truth Was Lain In An Adjoining Room. He Questioned Softly Why I Failed? "for Beauty," I Replied. "and I For Truth, The Two Are One; We Brethren Are," He Said. And So, As Kinsmen Met A Night, We Talked Between The Rooms, Until The Moss Had Reached Our Lips, And Covered Up Our Names.