Quaint, Outlandish Heathen Gods Black

Whatever Lives Is Granted Breath But By The Grace And Sufferance Of Death.

Give But A Grain Of The Heart's Rich Seed, Confine Some Under Cover, And When Love Goes, Bid Him God-speed. And Find Another Lover.

The Key To All Strange Things Is In Thy Heart..../ My Spirit Has Come Home, That Sailed The Doubtful Seas.

Africa? A Book One Thumbs Listlessly, Till Slumber Comes.

I Doubt Not God Is Good, Well-meaning, Kind