My Love Is Selfish. I Cannot Breathe

Much Have I Traveled In The Realms Of Gold, And Many Goodly States And Kingdoms Seen.

When It Is Moving On Luxurious Wings, The Soul Is Lost In Pleasant Smotherings.

The Genius Of Shakespeare Was An Innate University.

Nor Do We Merely Feel These Essences For One Short Hour No, Even As These Trees That Whisper Round A Temple Become Soon Dear As The Temples Self, So Does The Moon, The Passion Posey, Glories Infinite, Haunt Us Till They Become A Cheering Light Unto Our Souls And Bound To Us So Fast, That Wheather There Be Shine, Or Gloom O'er Cast, They Always Must Be With Us, Or We Die.

O Fret Not After Knowledge - I Have None, And Yet My Song Comes Native With The Warmth. O Fret Not After Knowledge - I Have None, And Yet The Evening Listens.