Not Truth, But Faith It Is That

After All My Erstwhile Dear, My No Longer Cherished; Need We Say It Was Not Love, Just Because It Perished?

But She Was Not Made For Any Man, And She Will Never Be All Mine.

Blessed Be Death, That Cuts In Marble What Would Have Sunk To Dust!

I Only Know That Summer Sang In Me A Little While, That In Me Sings No More.

To A Young Poet Time Cannot Break The Bird's Wing From The Bird. Bird And Wing Together Go Down, One Feather. No Thing That Ever Flew, Not The Lark, Not You, Can Die As Others Do.