The Eagle Suffers Little Birds To Sing.

Truth Needs No Color; Beauty, No Pencil.

We Are Not Ourselves When Nature, Being Oppressed, Commands The Mind To Suffer With The Body.

The Expedition Of My Violent Love Outrun The Pauser, Reason.

Now I Will Believe That There Are Unicorns.

In The Night, Imagining Some Fear, How Easy Is A Bush Supposed A Bear!