Where all was Eden, all is Eden-less. The Garden vanished--earth and sea and sky, The sunbeams, flowers--even as you and I All sundered stand in stricken loneliness; The tangled Paradise a wilderness Of ordered isolations! The great soul, Which made of all things one harmonious whole, Shredded to serve the fragments which caress The separate being...Learn More

All the world was Eden once, you know, And Paradise was ours everywhere; No jealous hedge joy's limits to declare, No sullen wall our Garden-bounds to show; No thorns did then beneath the roses grow, And winter's blast was as a dream-love's kiss-- A lightsome rapture; every task a bliss Sweet-laden as the air where lilies blow. For I was all of...Learn More

"Come, build me a statue all of snow!" Said the Medici, prince and patron of Art, And Michael Angelo, aflame at heart With noble shame to cast his visions so, In fleeting form for pride's caprices, low: His Muse all mutinous humbled to her part, And bade a Seraph from the snow out-start. He came--and perished in the noon-day glow. Great world!...Learn More