The Truth--a Hideous Spectacle!

Death Is A Meeting Place Of Sea And Sea.

Schoolchildren All Over America Are Told To Write To Authors-often To Authors Whom They Have Never Before Heard Of, Whose Work They Are To Young To Understand In The Least, And Often In Letters Which Are Almost Illiterate. If Children Are To Be Taught To Respect The Work Of American Poets I Think Some Better Way Might Be Found To Do So- Some Way Which Would Not Make Such An Inconsiderate Demand On The Author's Time.

I Love You, What Star Do You Live On?

Time Is A Dream ... A Destroying Dream; It Lays Great Cities In Dust, It Fills The Seas; It Covers The Face Of Beauty, And Tumbles Walls.

The Wandering One, The Inquisitive Dreamer Of Dreams, The Eternal Asker Of Answers, Stands In The Street, And Lifts His Palms For The First Cold Ghost Of Rain.