You Don't Have To Be A House

This Is My Letter To The World, That Never Wrote To Me, The Simple News That Nature Told, With Tender Majesty. Her Message Is Committed, To Hands I Cannot See; For Love Of Her, Sweet Countrymen, Judge Tenderly Of Me.

How Strange That Nature Does Not Knock, And Yet Does Not Intrude!

The Crime, From Us, Is Hidden, [though] He Is Presumed To Know.

Life Is So Rotatory That The Wilderness Falls To Each, Sometime.

It Is Essential To The Sanity Of Mankind That Each One Should Think The Other Crazy - A Condition With Which The Cynicism Of Human Nature So Cordially Complies, One Could Wish It Were A Concurrence Upon A Subject More Noble.