No wonder of it: sheer plod makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermilion.

“The Best ideal is the true and other truth is none. All glory be ascribed to th…”

“I wake and feel the fell of dark, not day.”

“Nothing is so beautiful as Spring-When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely …”

“And for all this, nature is never spent; There lives the dearest freshness deep…”