I Have Wished A Bird Would Fly

Ah, When To The Heart Of Man Was It Ever Less Than A Treason To Go With The Drift Of Things, To Yield With A Grace To Reason, And Bow And Accept The End Of A Love Or A Season?

Not Yesterday I Learned To Know The Love Of Bare November Days Before The Coming Of The Snow.

There Never Was Any Heart Truly Great And Generous, That Was Not Also Tender And Compassionate.

A Turning Point In Modern History.

The Woods Are Lovely, Dark, And Deep But I Have Promises To Keep...