He’s More Myself Than I Am

Still Let My Tyrants Know, I Am Not Doomed To Wear Year After Year In Gloom, And Desolate Despair; A Messenger Of Hope Comes Every Night To Me, And Offers For Short Life, Eternal Liberty.

It Is For God To Punish Wicked People; We Should Learn To Forgive.

Good Words," I Replied. "but Deeds Must Prove It Also; And After He Is Well, Remember You Don't Forget Resolutions Formed In The Hour Of Fear.

I Have To Remind Myself To Breathe -- Almost To Remind My Heart To Beat!

And, Even Yet, I Dare Not Let It Languish, Dare Not Indulge In Memory's Rapturous Pain; Once Drinking Deep Of That Divinest Anguish, How Could I Seek The Empty World Again?