He That Would Eat Of Love Must

The World Stands Out On Either Side No Wider Than The Heart Is Wide; Above The World Is Stretched The Sky, No Higher Than The Soul Is High. The Heart Can Push The Sea And Land Farther Away On Either Hand; The Soul Can Split The Sky In Two, And Let The Face Of God Shine Through. But East And West Will Pinch The Heart That Can Not Keep Them Pushed Apart; And He Whose Soul Is Flat—the Sky Will Cave In On Him By And By.

She Is Neither Pink Nor Pale, And She Never Will Be All Mine; She Learned Her Hands In A Fairy-tale, And Her Mouth On A Valentine. She Has More Hair Than She Needs; In The Sun ’tis A Woe To Me! And Her Voice Is A String Of Colored Beads, Or Steps Leading Into The Sea. She Loves Me All That She Can, And Her Ways To My Ways Resign; But She Was Not Made For Any Man, And She Never Will Be All Mine.

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.

Life Has No Friend.

There Are A Hundred Places Where I Fear To Go, --so With His Memory They Brim! And Entering With Relief Some Quiet Place Where Never Fell His Foot Or Shone His Face I Say, 'there Is No Memory Of Him Here!' And So Stand Stricken, So Remembering Him!