Dead Men Would Start And Move Toward

Why Wait For Death To Mow? Why Wait For Death To Sow Us In The Ground?

When You Would Think, "what Was The Use Of It," You'll Remember Something You Can't Grasp And You'll Wonder What It Was.

I Fear No Man, No Woman; Flower Does Not Fear Bird, Insect Nor Adder.

Who Dreams Of A Son, Save One, Childless, Having No Bright Face To Flatter Its Own, Who Dreams Of A Son?

Remember The Golden Apple-trees; O, Do Not Pity Them, As You Watch Them Drop One By One, For They Fall Exhausted, Numb, Blind But In Certain Ecstasy, For Theirs Is The Hunger For Paradise.