The Heaventree Of Stars Hung With Humid

Good Puzzle Would Be Cross Dublin Without Passing A Pub.

My Words In Her Mind: Cold Polished Stones Sinking Through A Quagmire.

The Men That Is Now Is Only All Palaver And What They Can Get Out Of You.

Gentle Lady, Do Not Sing Sad Songs About The End Of Love; Lay Aside Sadness And Sing How Love That Passes Is Enough. Sing About The Long Deep Sleep Of Lovers That Are Dead, And How In The Grave All Love Shall Sleep: Love Is Aweary Now.

There Is Not Past, No Future; Everything Flows In An Eternal Present.