Not On One Strand Are

I Half Wish That I Had Not Been Born With A Sense Of Romance And Beauty In This Accursed Age.

There Was A Knight Came Riding By In Early Spring, When The Roads Were Dry; And He Heard That Lady Sing At The Noon, Two Red Roses Across The Moon.

It Is The Childlike Part Of Us That Produces Works Of The Imagination. When We Were Children Time Passed So Slow With Us That We Seemed To Have Time For Everything.

If We Feel The Least Degradation In Being Amorous, Or Merry Or Hungry, Or Sleepy, We Are So Far Bad Animals & Miserable Men.

A Pattern Is Either Right Or Wrong...it Is No Stronger Than Its Weakest Point.