It May Be That We

All The Great Things Of Life Are Swiftly Done, Creation, Death, And Love The Double Gate. However Much We Dawdle In The Sun We Have To Hurry At The Touch Of Fate.

Oh Some Are Fond Of Spanish Wine, And Some Are Fond Of French.

It's A Warm Wind, The West Wind, Full Of Birds' Cries.

It Is Too Maddening. I've Got To Fly Off, Right Now, To Some Devilish Navy Yard, 3 Hours In A Seasick Steamer, & After Being Heartily Sick, I'll Have To Speak 3 Times, & Then Be Sick Coming Home. Still, Who Would Not Be Sick For England?

When Life Knocks At The Door No One Can Wait, When Death Makes His Arrest We Have To Go.