Authors, Like Coins, Grow Dear As They

Live Like Yourself, Was Soon My Lady's Word, And Lo! Two Puddings Smok'd Upon The Board.

Nor Fame I Slight, Nor Her Favors Call.

The Hungry Judges Soon The Sentence Sign, And Wretches Hang That Jurymen May Dine.

The Spider's Touch, How Exquisitely Fine! Feels At Each Thread, And Lives Along The Line.

Only Music Has The Ability To Take You To The Edge Of Reality And Allow You To Peek In For A Moment.