Stands The Church Clock At Ten To

Breathless, We Flung Us On A Windy Hill, Laughed In The Sun, And Kissed The Lovely Grass.

Store Up Reservoirs Of Calm And Content And Draw On Them At Later Moments When The Source Isn't There, But The Need Is Very Great.

Stands The Church Clock At Ten To Three? And Is There Honey Still For Tea?

But There's Wisdom In Women, Of More Than They Have Known, And Thoughts Go Blowing Through Them, Are Wiser Than Their Own.

Oh! Death Will Find Me Long Before I Tire Of Watching You.