Out Alone In The Winter Rain, /

Space Ails Us Moderns: We Are Sick With Space.

Two Such As You With Such A Master Speed, Cannot Be Parted Nor Be Swept Away, From One Another Once You Are Agreed, That Life Is Only Life Forevermore, Together Wing To Wing And Oar To Oar.

There Is The Fear That We Shan't Prove Worthy In The Eyes Of Someone Who Knows Us At Least As Well As We Know Ourselves. That Is The Fear Of God. And There Is The Fear Of Man -fear That Men Won't Understand Us And We Shall Be Cut Of From Them.

It's God - I Recognised Him From Blake's Picture.

A Poem Begins With A Lump In The Throat; A Homesickness Or A Love Sickness. It Is A Reaching-out Toward Expression; An Effort To Find Fulfillment. A Complete Poem Is One Where An Emotion Has Found Its Thought And The Thought Has Found Words.