Do Diddle Di Do, Poor

Too Late For Fruit, Too Soon For Flowers.

It Was A Pity Thoughts Always Ran The Easiest Way, Like Water In Old Ditches.

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.

What A Haunting, Inescapable Riddle Life Was.

Look Thy Last On All Things Lovely, Every Hour