I Don't Really Feel My Poems Are

Prose Books Are The Show Dogs I Breed And Sell To Support My Cat.

To Recommend A Monarchy On Account Of The Prosperity It Gives The Provinces Seems To Me Like Recommending That A Man Should Have Liberty To Treat His Children As Slaves, If At The Same Time He Treats His Slaves With Reasonable Consideration.

The Difference Between You And Her (whom I To You Did Once Prefer) Is Clear Enough To Settle: She Like A Diamond Shone, But You Shine Like An Early Drop Of Dew Poised On A Red Rose Petal. The Dew-drop Carries In Its Eye Mountain And Forest, Sea And Sky, With Every Change Of Weather; Contrariwise, A Diamond Splits The Prospect Into Idle Bits That None Can Piece Together.

Strawberries That In Gardens Grow Are Plump And Juicy Fine, But Sweeter Far As Wise Men Know Spring From The Woodland Vine. No Need For Bowl Or Silver Spoon, Sugar Or Spice Or Cream, Has The Wild Berry Plucked In June Beside The Trickling Stream. One Such To Melt At The Tongue's Root, Confounding Taste With Scent, Beats A Full Peck Of Garden Fruit: Which Points My Argument.

Let All The Poison That Lurks In The Mud, Hatch Out.