If I Should Die, Think Only This

The Worst Of Slaves Is He Whom Passion Rules.

In Your Arms Was Still Delight, Quiet As A Street At Night; And Thoughts Of You, I Do Remember, Were Green Leaves In A Darkened Chamber, Were Dark Clouds In A Moonless Sky.

Incredibly, Inordinately, Devastatingly, Immortally, Calamitously, Hearteningly, Adorably Beautiful.

.. . . Would I Were In Grantchester, In Grantchester!

Mud Unto Mud!--death Eddies Near-- Not Here The Appointed End, Not Here! But Somewhere, Beyond Space And Time, Is Wetter Water, Slimier Slime!