Say, Thou Art Mine; And Ever, My

How Lush And Lusty The Grass Looks! How Green!

Age Cannot Wither Her, Nor Custom Stale Her Infinite Variety.

So Many Hours Must I Take My Rest; So Many Hours Must I Contemplate.

My Love To Thee Is Sound, Sans Crack Or Flaw.

And Thou, All-shaking Thunder, Strike Flat The Thick Rotundity O' The World! Crack Nature's Moulds, All Germens Spill At Once That Makes Ingrateful Man!