Nobody was ever meant, To remember or invent, What he did with every cent.
Oh, come forth into the storm and rout And be my love in the rain.
If you're looking for something to be brave about, consider fine arts.
I shall set forth for somewhere, I shall make the reckless choice Some say when they are in voice And tossing so as to scare The white clouds over them on, I shall have less to say, But I shall be none.
Love has earth to which she clings.
Far in the pillared dark Thrush music went- Almost like a call to come in To the dark and lament. But no, I was out for stars: I would not come in. I meant not even if asked, And I hadn't been.