Don't Think Of What's Past!"

I Am The Family Face; Flesh Perishes, I Live On, Projecting Trait And Trace Through Time To Times Anon, And Leaping From Place To Place Over Oblivion.

Somebody Might Have Come Along That Way Who Would Have Asked Him His Trouble, And Might Have Cheered Him By Saying That His Notions Were Further Advanced Than Those Of His Grammarian. But Nobody Did Come, Because Nobody Does; And Under The Crushing Recognition Of His Gigantic Error Jude Continued To Wish Himself Out Of The World.

Always Wanting Another Man Than Your Own.

Bless Thy Simplicity, Tess

Weathers This Is The Weather The Cuckoo Likes, And So Do I; When Showers Betumble The Chestnut Spikes, And Nestlings Fly; And The Little Brown Nightingale Bills His Best, And They Sit Outside At 'the Traveller's Rest,' And Maids Come Forth Sprig-muslin Drest, And Citizens Dream Of The South And West, And So Do I. This Is The Weather The Shepherd Shuns, And So Do I; When Beeches Drip In Browns And Duns, And Thresh And Ply; And Hill-hid Tides Throb, Throe On Throe, And Meadow Rivulets Overflow, And Drops On Gate Bars Hang In A Row, And Rooks In Families Homeward Go, And So Do I.