Dying Is A Wild Night And A

Forever Is Composed Of Nows.

Assent - And You Are Sane - Demur - And You're Straightaway Dangerous - And Handled With A Chain.

I Held A Jewel In My Fingers And Went To Sleep. The Day Was Warm, And Winds Were Prosy; I Said: "'t Will Keep." I Woke And Chid My Honest Fingers,— The Gem Was Gone; And Now An Amethyst Remembrance Is All I Own.

Hope Is The Thing With Feathers That Perches In The Soul.

I Don't Profess To Be Profound; But I Do Lay Claim To Common Sense.