Fools, Your Reward Is Neither Here Nor

The Flower That Once Has Blown Forever Dies.

A Drink Is Shorter Than A Tale

I Sent My Soul Through The Invisible, Some Letter Of That After-life To Spell: And By And By My Soul Return'd To Me, And Answer'd: 'i Myself Am Heav'n And Hell

Give Me A Flagon Of Red Wine, A Book Of Verses, A Loaf Of Bread, And A Little Idleness. If With Such Store I Might Sit By Thy Dear Side In Some Lonely Place, I Should Deem Myself Happier Than A King In His Kingdom.

But Helpless Pieces Of The Game He Plays Upon This Checker-board Of Nights And Days; Hither And Thither Moves, And Checks, And Slays, And One By One Back In The Closet Lays.