Without, the frost, the blinding snow, The storm-wind's moody madness--... Within, the firelight's ruddy glow, And childhood's nest of gladness. The magic words shall hold thee fast: Thou shalt not heed the raving blast.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Each day I live in a glass room Unless I break it with the thrusting... Of my senses and pass through The splintered walls to the great landscape.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
the gentleness of wine in his fingertips, where do these hands come from?... I was born a glass baby and nobody picked me up except to wash the dust off me. He has picked me up and licked me alive.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »
Since you know you cannot see yourself So well as by reflection, I, your glass,... Will modestly discover to yourself That of yourself which yet you know not of.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »