When I Am Dead, My Dearest, Sing

What Is Green? The Grass Is Green, With Small Flowers Between. What Is Violet? Clouds Are Violet In The Summer Twilight. What Is Orange? Why, An Orange, Just An Orange!

Rest, Rest At The Heart's Core . . . Till Joy Shall Overtake.

Does The Road Wind Up-hill All The Way? Yes, To The Very End.

Oh Roses For The Flush Of Youth, And Laurel For The Perfect Prime; But Pluck An Ivy Branch For Me Grown Old Before My Time.

Hope Is Like A Hairball Trembling From Its Birth.