The Things Of Which We Want The

When Everything That Ticked Has Stopped, And Space Stares, All Around, Or Grisly Frosts, First Autumn Morns, Repeal The Beating Ground.

Sunrise: Day's Great Progenitor.

An Ear Can Break A Human Heart As Quickly As A Spear, We Wish The Ear Had Not A Heart So Dangerously Near.

Portraits Are To Daily Faces As An Evening West To A Fine, Pedantic Sunshine In A Satin Vest.

Dare You See A Soul At The White Heat?