One Wise Man's Verdict Outweighs All The

Earth Is Crammed With Heavens.

Once More On My Adventure Brave And New.

All Poetry Is Putting The Infinite Within The Finite.

It's Like Those Eerie Stories Nurses Tell, Of How Some Actor On A Stage Played Death, With Pasteboard Crown, Sham Orb And Tinselled Dart, And Called Himself The Monarch Of The World; Then, Going In The Tire-room Afterward, Because The Play Was Done, To Shift Himself, Got Touched Upon The Sleeve Familiarly, The Moment He Had Shut The Closet Door, By Death Himself. Thus God Might Touch A Pope At Unawares, Ask What His Baubles Mean, And Whose Part He Presumed To Play Just Now. Best Be Yourself, Imperial, Plain And True!

So, Fall Asleep Love, Loved By Me... For I Know Love, I Am Loved By Thee.