The Grape That Can With Logic Absolute

This Body Is A Tent Which For A Space Does The Pure Soul With Kingly Presence Grace; When He Departs, Comes The Tent-pitcher, Death, Strikes It, And Moves To A New Halting-place.

When You Are So Full Of Sorrow That You Can't Walk, Can't Cry Anymore, Think About The Green Foliage That Sparkles After The Rain. When The Daylight Exhausts You, When You Hope A Final Night Will Cover The World, Think About The Awakening Of A Young Child.

But Helpless Pieces Of The Game He Plays Upon This Checker-board Of Nights And Days; Hither And Thither Moves, And Checks, And Slays, And One By One Back In The Closet Lays.

Men Talk Of Heaven, - There Is No Heaven But Here; Men Talk Of Hell, - There Is No Hell But Here; Men Of Hereafters Talk And Future Lives, - O Love, There Is No Other Life - But Here.

Hearts Are Like Tapers, Which At Beauteous Eyes Kindle A Flame Of Love That Never Dies; And Beauty Is A Flame, Where Hearts, Like Moths, Offer Themselves A Burning Sacrifice.