The Soul Can Split The Sky In

I Hate People But I Love Gatherings.

There Are A Hundred Places Where I Fear To Go, --so With His Memory They Brim! And Entering With Relief Some Quiet Place Where Never Fell His Foot Or Shone His Face I Say, 'there Is No Memory Of Him Here!' And So Stand Stricken, So Remembering Him!

I Have Loved Badly, Loved The Great Too Soon, Withdrawn My Words Too Late; And Eaten In An Echoing Hall Alone And From A Chipped Plate The Words That I Withdrew Too Late.

But If I Can't Be Sorry, Why, I Might As Well Be Glad!

Not Truth, But Faith It Is That Keeps The World Alive.