My Heart Aches, And A Drowsy Numbness

The Grandeur Of The Dooms We Have Imagined For The Mighty Dead.

Deep In The Shady Sadness Of A Vale Far Sunken From The Healthy Breath Of Morn, Far From The Fiery Noon And Eve's One Star, Sat Gray-haired Saturn, Quiet As A Stone, Still As The Silence Round About His Lair.

She Hurried At His Words, Beset With Fears, For There Were Sleeping Dragons All Around.

What Shocks The Virtuous Philosopher, Delights The Chameleon Poet.

O, Sorrow! Why Dost Borrow Heart's Lightness From The Merriment Of May?