She Is Happy Where She Lies With

And Reaching Up My Hand To Try, I Screamed To Feel It Touch The Sky.

Lord I Do Fear / Thou'st Made The World Too Beautiful This Year.

What Should I Be But Just What I Am?

What Terrible Fear Causes Man To Address The Void As Thou?

Life In Itself / Is Nothing, / An Empty Cup, A Flight Of Uncarpeted Stairs. / It Is Not Enough That Yearly, Down This Hill, / April / Comes Like An Idiot, Babbling And Strewing Flowers.