Could I Find A Place To Be

There Is Nothing The Body Suffers Which The Soul May Not Profit By.

On A Starred Night Prince Lucifer Uprose, Tired Of His Dark Dominion Swung The Fiend . . . He Reached A Middle Height, And At The Stars, Which Are The Brain Of Heaven, He Looked, And Sank. Around The Ancient Track Marched, Rank On Rank, The Army Of Unalterable Law.

She Poured A Little Social Sewage Into His Ears.

Poetry Is Talking On Tiptoe.

Memoirs Are The Backstairs Of History.