The Sea Hath No King But God

I Am Not As These Are, The Poet Saithin Youth's Pride, And The Painter, Among Menat Bay, Where Never Pencil Comes Nor Pem

Love, Which Is Quickly Kindled In The Gentle Heart, Seized This Man For The Fair Form That Was Taken From Me, The Manner Still Hurts Me. Love Which Absolves No Beloved One From Loving, Seized Me So Strongly With His Charm That, As Thou Seest, It Does Not Leave Me Yet

It Is Beautiful, The World, And Life Itself. I Am Glad I Have Lived.

And Love, Our Light At Night And Shade At Noon,lulls Us To Rest With Songs, And Turns Awayall Shafts Of Shelterless Tumultuous Day.

Beauty Like Hers Is Genius.