She Is Happy Where She Lies With

Upon This Gifted Age, In Its Dark Hour Falls From The Sky A Meteoric Shower Of Facts; They Lie Unquestioned, Uncombined. Wisdom Enough To Leech Us Of Our Ill Is Daily Spun, But There Exists No Loom To Weave It Into Fabric.

Life Isn't One Thing After Another, It's The Same Thing Over And Over.

You Wrote Me A Beautiful Letter, I Wonder If You Meant It To Be As Beautiful As It Was. I Think You Did; For Somehow I Know That Your Feeling For Me, However Slight It Is, Is Of The Nature Of Love... When You Tell Me To Come, I Will Come, By The Next Train, Just As I Am. This Is Not Meekness, Be Assured; I Do Not Come Naturally By Meekness; Know That It Is A Proud Surrender To You.

But She Was Not Made For Any Man, And She Will Never Be All Mine.

Cruel Of Heart, Lay Down My Song. Your Reading Eyes Have Done Me Wrong. Not For You Was The Pen Bitten, And The Mind Wrung, And The Song Written.