Grant Me, O Lord, A Sunny Mind-thy

The Dandelion's Pallid Tube Astonishes The Grass, And Winter Instantly Becomes An Infinite Alas.

It Is Finished, Is Never Said Of Us

A Bayonet's Contrition Is Nothing To The Dead.

Exultation Is The Going Of An Inland Soul To Sea Past The Houses, Past The Headlands Into Deep Eternity! Bred As We, Among The Mountains Can The Sailor Understand The Divine Intoxication Of The First League Out From Land?

How Lucious Lies The Pea Within The Pod.