Kiss Me, So Long But As A

What Is Freedom? Ye Can Tell That Which Slavery Is, Too Well For Its Very Name Has Grown To An Echo Of Your Own.

Music, When Soft Voices Die Vibrates In The Memory.

Oh Lift Me As A Wave, A Leaf, A Cloud! I Fall Upon The Thorns Of Life! I Bleed!

Poets Are The Unacknowledged Legislators Of The World.

But I Am Chained To Time, And Cannot Thence Depart!