There Isn't A Train I Wouldn't Take,

For The Body At Best Is A Bundle Of Aches, Longing For Rest; It Cries When It Wakes.

All My Life, Following Care Along The Dusty Road, Have I Looked Back On Loveliness And Sighed.

There Is No God. But It Does Not Matter. Man Is Enough.

I Only Know That Summer Sang In Me A Little While, That In Me Sings No More.

A Ghost In Marble Of A Girl You Knew Who Would Have Loved You In A Day Or Two.