The Heart The Heart The Heart How

Could Beauty Be Beaten Out, O Youth The Cities Have Sent To Strike At Each Other's Strength, It Is You Who Have Kept Her Alight.

Long Hours Trail In Their Purple And Long Years Are Lost In Just This Moment While Our Souls Are Near, Our Mouths Separate.

In My Garden The Winds Have Beaten The Ripe Lilies; In My Garden, The Salt Has Wilted The First Flakes Of Young Narcissus.

I Will Be Free, No Lover's Kiss To Bind Me To Earth, No Bliss Of Love To Counteract Actual Bliss.

The Whole White World Is Ours.