There’s too much beauty upon this earth For lonely men to bear. - Richard Le Gallienne

Dear Sister, You dream like mad, you love like tinder, you aspire like a star-struck moth - for what? That you may hive little lyrics, and sell to a publisher for thirty pieces of silver.

Art was a palace once, things great and fair, And strong and holy , found a temple there:

Yea, howso we dream, Or how bravely we do;
The end is the same, Be we traitor or true: And after the bloom And the passion is past
Death comes at last.