A soft Sea washed around the House A Sea of Summer Air And rose and fell the magic Planks That sailed without a care — For Captain was the Butterfly For Helmsman was the Bee And an entire universe For the delighted crew.

Vinnie rocks her Garden and moans that God won't help her. I suppose he is too busy getting angry with the Wicked every day.

Wild Nights – Wild Nights! Were I with thee Wild Nights should be Our luxury! Futile – the winds – To a heart in port – Done with the compass – Done with the chart! Rowing in Eden – Ah, the sea! Might I moor – Tonight – In thee!

The sun just touched the morning; The morning, happy thing, Supposed that he had come to dwell, And life would be all spring.

The Things that never can come back, are several - Childhood - some forms of Hope - the Dead.

I am one of the lingering bad ones, and so do I slink away, and pause, and ponder, and ponder, and pause, and do work without knowing why - not surely for this brief world, and more sure it is not for heaven - and I ask what this message of Christ means.

Tell all the Truth, but tell it slant/Success in Circuit lies.