I Have Need To Busy My Heart

Cities, Like Cats, Will Reveal Themselves At Night.

All The Little Emptiness Of Love!

Infinite Hungers Leap No More I In The Chance Swaying Of Your Dress; And Love Has Changed To Kindliness.

They Say That The Dead Die Not, But Remain Near To The Rich Heirs Of Their Grief And Mirth. I Think They Ride The Calm Mid-heaven, As These, In Wise Majestic Melancholy Train, And Watch The Moon, And The Still-raging Seas, And Men, Coming And Going On The Earth.

Stands The Church Clock At Ten To Three? And Is There Honey Still For Tea?