O Lord, I Cannot Plead

Spring Is When Life's Alive In Everything.

She Cried, "laura," Up The Garden, "did You Miss Me? Come And Kiss Me. Never Mind My Bruises, Hug Me, Kiss Me, Suck My Juices Squeezed From Goblin Fruits For You, Goblin Pulp And Goblin Dew. Eat Me, Drink Me, Love Me; Laura, Make Much Of Me; For Your Sake I Have Braved The Glen And Had To Do With Goblin Merchant Men.

Ah Me, But Where Are Now The Songs I Sang When Life Was Sweet Because You Call’d Them Sweet?

What Is Green? The Grass Is Green, With Small Flowers Between. What Is Violet? Clouds Are Violet In The Summer Twilight. What Is Orange? Why, An Orange, Just An Orange!

Oh That It Were With Me As With The Flower; Blooming On Its Own Tree For Butterfly And Bee Its Summer Morns: That I Might Bloom Mine Hour A Rose In Spite Of Thorns. Oh That My Work Were Done As Birds' That Soar Rejoicing In The Sun: That When My Time Is Run And Daylight Too, I So Might Rest Once More Cool With Refreshing Dew.