Let Geese Gabble And Hiss, But Heroes

Ah, I Could Lay Me Down In This Long Grass And Close My Eyes, And Let The Quiet Wind Blow Over Me

Childhood Is Not From Birth To A Certain Age And At A Certain Age. The Child Is Grown, And Puts Away Childish Things. Childhood Is The Kingdom Where Nobody Dies.

So Up I Got In Anger, And Took A Book I Had, And Put A Ribbon On My Hair To Please A Passing Lad. And, "one Thing There's No Getting By -- I've Been A Wicked Girl," Said I; But If I Can't Be Sorry, Why, I Might As Well Be Glad!

Thus In The Winter Stands The Lonely Tree, Nor Knows What Birds Have Vanished One By One, Yet Knows Its Boughs More Silent Than Before

Under My Head Till Morning; But The Rain, Is Full Of Ghosts Tonight, That Tap And Sigh, Upon The Glass And Listen For Reply.