Must's A Schoolroom In The Month Of

O Sweet Spontaneous Earth How Often Has The Naughty Thumb Of Science Prodded Thy Beauty Thou Answereth Them Only With Spring.

I Will Take The Sun In My Mouth And Leap Into The Ripe Air Alive With Closed Eyes To Dash Against Darkness

An Artist, A Man, A Failure, Must Proceed.

Who Pays Any Attention To The Syntax Of Things Will Never Wholly Kiss You

The Courage To Receive Time's Mightiest Dream.