That Queen Of Secrecy, The Violet.

Love In A Hut, With Water And A Crust, Is - Love, Forgive Us! - Cinders, Ashes, Dust.

What Is There In Thee, Moon! That Thou Should'st Move My Heart So Potently?

No Stir Of Air Was There, Not So Much Life As On A Summer's Day Robs Not One Light Seed From The Feather'd Grass, But Where The Dead Leaf Fell, There Did It Rest.

I Would Sooner Fail Than Not Be Among The Greatest.

Every Fresh Experience Points Out Some Form Of Error Which We Shall Afterwards Carefully Avoid.