Do Ye Hear The Children Weeping, O

And Lips Say “god Be Pitiful,” Who Ne'er Said “god Be Praised.”

If I Leave All For Thee, Wilt Thou Exchange And Be All To Me?

The Charm, One Might Say The Genius, Of Memory Is That It Is Choosy, Chancy And Temperamental.

What I Do And What I Dream Include Thee, As The Wine Must Taste Of Its Own Grapes.

Gaze Up At The Stars Knowing That I See The Same Sky And Wish The Same Sweet Dreams.