But This We Know, The Obstacle That

And Were An Epitaph To Be My Story I'd Have A Short One Ready For My Own. I Would Have Written Of Me On My Stone: I Had A Lover's Quarrel With The World.

The Armful For Every Parcel I Stoop Down To Seize I Lose Some Other Off My Arms And Knees, And The Whole Pile Is Slipping, Bottles, Buns, Extremes Too Hard To Comprehend At. Once Yet Nothing I Should Care To Leave Behind. With All I Have To Hold With Hand And Mind And Heart, If Need Be, I Will Do My Best. To Keep Their Building Balanced At My Breast. I Crouch Down To Prevent Them As They Fall; Then Sit Down In The Middle Of Them All. I Had To Drop The Armful In The Road And Try To Stack Them In A Better Load.

If The Day Ever Comes When They Know Who They Are, They May Know Better Where They Are.

Not To Sink Under Being Man And Wife, But Get Some Color And Music Out Of Life?

An Idea Comes As Near To Something For Nothing As You Can Get.