Your Eyes Smile Peace.

Her Hair That Lay Along Her Back Was Yellow Like Ripe Corn.

Love Is The Last Relay And Ultimate Outposts Of Eternity.

I Am Not As These Are, The Poet Saithin Youth's Pride, And The Painter, Among Menat Bay, Where Never Pencil Comes Nor Pem

Still We Say As We Go,-"strange To Think By The Waywhatever There Is To Know,that Shall We Know One Day.

From Perfect Grief There Need Not Bewisdom Or Even Memory;one Thing Then Learned Remains To Me -the Woodspurge Has A Cup Of Three.