Coleridge Received The Person From Porlock And

Colours Are What Drive Me Most Strongly.

But One Wants The Idea Of Death, You Know, As Something Large And Unknowable, Something That Allows A Person To Stretch Himself Out. Especially One Wants It If One Is Tired. Or Perhaps What One Wants Is Simply A Release From Sensation, From All Consciousness For Ever.

I'm Sorry To Say My Dear Wife Is A Dreamer, And As She Dreams She Gets Paler And Leaner. Then Be Off To Your Dream, With His Fly-away Hat, I Stay With The Girls Who Are Happy And Fat.

Nothing Is More Wistful Than The Scent Of Lilac, Nor More Robust Than Its Woody Stalk, For We Must Remember That It Is A Tree As Well As A Flower, We Must Try Not To Forget This.

So I Fancy My Muse Says, When I Wish To Die, Oh No, Oh No, We Are Not Yet Friends Enough, And Virtue Also Says: We Are Not Yet Friends Enough.