Too Late For Fruit, Too Soon For

The Only Catalogue Of This World's Goods That Really Counts Is That Which We Keep In The Silence Of The Mind.

Do Diddle Di Do, Poor Jim Jay Got Stuck Fast In Yesterday.

Oh, No Man Knows Through What Wild Centuries Roves Back The Rose.

A Harvest Mouse Goes Scampering By, With Silver Claws And Silver Eye; And Moveless Fish In The Water Gleam, By Silver Reeds In A Silver Stream.

Tell Them I Came, And No One Answered, That I Kept My Word," He Said. Never The Least Stir Made The Listeners, Though Every Word He Spake Fell Echoing Through The Shadowiness Of The Still House From The One Man Left Awake: Ay, They Heard His Foot Upon The Stirrup, And The Sound Of Iron On Stone, And How The Silence Surged Softly Backward, When The Plunging Hoofs Were Gone.