Dead Men Would Start And Move Toward

Escape From The Power Of The Hunting Pack, And To Know That Wisdom Is Best And Beauty Sheer Holiness.

Remember The Golden Apple-trees; O, Do Not Pity Them, As You Watch Them Drop One By One, For They Fall Exhausted, Numb, Blind But In Certain Ecstasy, For Theirs Is The Hunger For Paradise.

She Did Not Look At The Daffodils. They Didn't Mean Anything. She Looked At The Daffodils. She Said, 'thank You For The Daffodils.

One Flower May Slay The Winter And Meet Death.

Love That I Bear Within My Breast How Is My Armour Melted How My Heart