The World Is Too Brutal For Me-i

You Are Always New. The Last Of Your Kisses Was Ever The Sweetest; The Last Smile The Brightest; The Last Movement The Gracefullest. When You Pass'd My Window Home Yesterday, I Was Fill'd With As Much Admiration As If I Had Then Seen You For The First Time...even If You Did Not Love Me I Could Not Help An Entire Devotion To You.

His Old Right Hand Lay Nerveless, Listless, Dead, Unsceptred; And His Realmless Eyes Were Closed.

Even Bees, The Little Almsmen Of Spring Bowers, Know There Is Richest Juice In Poison-flowers.

Much Have I Traveled In The Realms Of Gold, And Many Goodly States And Kingdoms Seen.

How Beautiful, If Sorrow Had Not Made Sorrow More Beautiful Than Beauty's Self.