Guess I'll Weep Awhile. Guess I Won't,

I Only Know That Summer Sang In Me A Little While, That In Me Sings No More.

And What Are You That, Missing You, I Should Be Kept Awake As Many Nights As There Are Days With Weeping For Your Sake? And What Are You That, Missing You, As Many Days As Crawl I Should Be Listening To The Wind And Looking At The Wall? I Know A Man That’s A Braver Man And Twenty Men As Kind, And What Are You, That You Should Be The One Man In My Mind? Yet Women’s Ways Are Witless Ways, As Any Sage Will Tell,— And What Am I, That I Should Love So Wisely And So Well?

That Which Has Quelled Me, Lives With Me, Accomplice In Catastrophe.

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

Man Has Never Been The Same Since God Died.