I See Thee Better In The Dark

A Dim Capacity For Wings Demeans The Dress I Wear.

Will You Tell Me My Fault, Frankly As To Yourself, For I Had Rather Wince, Than Die. Men Do Not Call The Surgeon To Commend The Bone, But To Set It, Sir.

Lest I Should Be Old-fashioned, I'll Put A Trinket On.

Drunkards Of Summer Are Quite As Frequent As Drunkards Of Wine.

God's Little Blond Blessing We Have Long Deemed You, And Hope His So-called Will Will Not Compel Him To Revoke You.