Who cares, Though age oppress, And griefs distress, And the long, long day Rolls slow away

Nerves are most extraordinary, Full of useful information, At a moment’s notice merry With abounding cacchination, Then with subtle transformation,

That odd, fantastic ass, Rousseau… Declared himself unique. How men persist in doing so, Puzzles me more than Greek. The sins that tarnish whore and th…

'He who knows What life and de… Chapman. He who knows what life and death i… Walks superior to fate. Every word that Fortune saith is

Just to utter a word, That is all I desire; That may still be heard, When I expire; That still may glow,

I deliver a lecture And pour out my soul, Its full architecture, All rounded and whole. But with those I love best

I’m writing comedy again, The daintiest pleasure known to me… Unless a daintier might be To watch your acted comedy: The airy ladies gaily dressed,

When I was little, My life was half fear. My nerves were as brittle As nature may bear. Shapes monstrous would follow

The ghost of night’s long hours de… In congregation dreary, And leave my sorrow-trampled heart Intolerably weary. But Chirpings bright in dewy wood…

You think my songs are strange. I think they are myself. I let my fancy range’€” The divagating elf. Don’t say my songs are common.

I might have been a worker, but I… I tell my idle stories in a philos… In a fuzzy, spiny mantle of remote… I lie and watch with half-shut eye… And they bustle and they rustle wi…

I think about God. Yet I talk of small matters. Now isn’t it odd How my idle tongue chatters! Of quarrelsome neighbors,

You really can’t imagine how I lo… I love the dancing language where… I love the songs of Homer, flowin… With a touch of human kindness in… I love the Alexandrians whose ini…

My thoughts are like fleas, Eternally skipping. I try as I please To prevent their slipping, To probe them for more meant

Silly little bird, Singing of its love, Sang and never heard Winds of wrath above. Winds of wrath came down,