Hebe's Here, May Is Here! The Air

The Ring Of A False Coin Is Not More Recognizable Than That Of A Rhyme Setting Forth A False Sorrow.

O Liberty, White Goddess! Is It Well To Leave The Gates Unguarded? On Thy Breast Fold Sorrow's Children, Soothe The Hurts Of Fate, Lift The Down-trodden, But With Hand Of Steel Stay Those Who To Thy Sacred Portals Come To Waste The Gifts Of Freedom.

A Glance, A Word -- And Joy Or Pain Befalls.... How Slight The Links Are In The Chain That Binds Us To Our Destiny!

After A Debauch Of Thunder-shower, The Weather Takes The Pledge And Signs It With A Rainbow.

What Probing Deep Has Ever Solved The Mystery Of Sleep?