All The Little Emptiness Of Love!

Ponder Deep Wisdom, Dark Or Clear, Each Secret Fishy Hope Or Fear. Fish Say, They Have Their Stream And Pond; But Is There Anything Beyond? This Life Cannot Be All, They Swear, For How Unpleasant, If It Were! One May Not Doubt That, Somehow, Good Shall Come Of Water And Of Mud; And, Sure, The Reverent Eye Must See A Purpose In Liquidity.

Store Up Reservoirs Of Calm And Content And Draw On Them At Later Moments When The Source Isn't There, But The Need Is Very Great.

Down The Blue Night The Unending Columns Press In Noiseless Tumult, Break And Wave And Flow

Proud, Then, Clear-eyed And Laughing, Go To Greet Death As A Friend!

A Kiss Makes The Heart Young Again And Wipes Out The Years.