My Sun Sets To Rise Again.

What's The Earth With All Its Art, Verse, Music, Worth — Compared With Love, Found, Gained, And Kept?

One May Do Whatever One Likes. In Art, The Only Thing Is, To Make Sure That One Does Like It.

Truth That Peeps Over The Glass's Edge When Dinner's Done.

Smiling The Boy Fell Dead.

In This World, Who Can Do A Thing, Will Not; And Who Would Do It, Cannot, I Perceive: Yet The Will's Somewhat — Somewhat, Too, The Power — And Thus We Half-men Struggle.