And Her Voice Is A String Of

Beauty Never Slumbers; All Is In Her Name; But The Rose Remembers The Dust From Which It Came.

And Reaching Up My Hand To Try, I Screamed To Feel It Touch The Sky.

Under My Head Till Morning; But The Rain, Is Full Of Ghosts Tonight, That Tap And Sigh, Upon The Glass And Listen For Reply.

Gently They Go, The Beautiful, The Tender, The Kind; Quietly They Go, The Intelligent, The Witty, The Brave. I Know. But I Do Not Approve. And I Am Not Resigned.

I Screamed, And--lo!--infinity Came Down And Settled Over Me