Never Love With All Your Heart, It

Death Cut The Strings That Gave Me Life, And Handed Me To Sorrow, The Only Kind Of Middle Wife My Folks Could Beg Or Borrow.

Not For Myself I Make This Prayer, But For This Race Of Mine That Stretches Forth From Shadowed Places Dark Hands For Bread And Wine.

The Key To All Strange Things Is In Thy Heart..../ My Spirit Has Come Home, That Sailed The Doubtful Seas.

The Night Whose Sable Breast Relieves The Stark, White Stars, Is No Less Lovely Being Dark

We Shall Not Always Plant While Others Reap