I Would Die At The Stake Rather

I Sing, Not To Hear The Echo Repeat, A Shade Fainter, My Song! I Think Of Light And Not Of Glory! Singing Is My Fashion Of Waging War And Bearing Witness. And If My Song Is The Proudest Of Songs, It Is That I Sing Clearly To Make The Day Rise Clear!

Where Lurk Sweet Echoes Of The Dear Homevoices, Each Note Of Which Calls Like A Little Sister, Those Airs Slow, Slow Ascending, As The Smokewreaths Rise From The Hearthstones Of Our Native Hamlets Cyrano Act 5.

I Would Die At The Stake Rather Than Change A Semi-colon!

It Is At Night That Faith In Light Is Admirable.

A Kiss! When All Is Said, What Is A Kiss? An Oath Of Allegiance Taken In Closer Proximity, A Promise More Precise, A Seal On A Confession, A Rose-red Dot Upon The Letter I In Loving; A Secret Which Elects The Mouth For Ear; An Instant Of Eternity Murmuring Like A Bee; Balmy Communion With A Flavor Of Flowers; A Fashion Of Inhaling Each Other's Hearts, And Of Tasting, On The Brink Of The Lips, Each Other's Soul!