Earth Is A Merry Damsel,

The Distance That The Dead Have Gone Does Not At First Appear- Their Coming Back Seems Possible For Many An Ardent Year.

Portraits Are To Daily Faces As An Evening West To A Fine, Pedantic Sunshine In A Satin Vest.

Not To Discover Weakness Is The Artifice Of Strength.

I Am Out With Lanterns, Looking For Myself.

... And Then I Heard Them Lift A Box, And Creak Across My Soul With Those Same Boots Of Lead, Again, Then Space Began To Toll.