And All Winds Go Sighing For Sweet

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.

Remember Me When I Am Gone Away, Gone Far Away Into The Silent Land; When You Can No More Hold Me By The Hand, Nor I Half Turn To Go Yet Turning Stay. Remember Me When No More Day By Day You Tell Me Of Our Future That You Planned: Only Remember Me; You Understand It Will Be Late To Counsel Then Or Pray. Yet If You Should Forget Me For A While And Afterward Remember, Do Not Grieve: For If The Darkness And Corruption Leave A Vestige Of The Thoughts That Once I Had, Better By Far You Should Forget And Smile Than That You Should Remember And Be Sad.

Hope Is Like A Hairball Trembling From Its Birth.

Consider The Lilies Of The Field Whose Bloom Is Brief:-- We Are As They; Like Them We Fade Away As Doth A Leaf.

I Might Show Facts As Plain As Day: But, Since Your Eyes Are Blind, You'd Say, 'where? What?' And Turn Away.