I Started Early, Took My

I Must Go In, The Fog Is Rising.

I Argue Thee That Love Is Life. And Life Hath Immortality.

Expectation Is Contentment - Gain Satiety.

Further In Summer Than The Birds Pathetic From The Grass A Minor Nation Celebrates Its Unobtrusive Mass. No Ordinance Be Seen So Gradual The Grace A Pensive Custom It Becomes Enlarging Loneliness. Antiquest Felt At Noon When August Burning Low Arise This Spectral Canticle Repose To Typify Remit As Yet No Grace No Furrow On The Glow Yet A Druidic Difference Enhances Nature Now.

It Sounded As If The Streets Were Running, And Then The Streets Stood Still.