If There Is A Witness To My

A Very Little Boy Stood Upon A Heap Of Gravel For The Honour Of Rum Alley. He Was Throwing Stones At Howling Urchins From Devil's Row, Who Were Circling Madly About The Heap And Pelting Him. His Infantile Countenance Was Livid With The Fury Of Battle. His Small Body Was Writhing In The Delivery Of Oaths.

He Vaguely Desired To Walk Around And Around The Body And Stare; The Impulse Of The Living To Try To Read In Dead Eyes The Answer To The Question.

When It Came Night, The White Waves Paced To And Fro In The Moonlight, And The Wind Brought The Sound Of The Great Sea's Voice To The Men On Shore, And They Felt That They Could Then Be Interpreters.

Let Me Into The Darkness Again.

When The Suicide Arrived At The Sky, The People There Asked Him: "why?" He Replied: "because No One Admired Me.