Lest I Should Be Old-fashioned,

The Morning After Woe- Tis Frequently The Way- Surpasses All That Rose Before- For Utter Jubilee-.

An Altered Look About The Hills; A Tyrian Light The Village Fills; A Wider Sunrise In The Dawn; A Deeper Twilight On The Lawn; A Print Of A Vermilion Foot; A Purple Finger On The Slope; A Flippant Fly Upon The Pane; A Spider At His Trade Again; An Added Strut In Chanticleer; A Flower Expected Everywhere.

Pain - Has An Element Of Blank It Cannot Recollect When It Begun - Or If There Were A Time When It Was Not - It Has No Future - But Itself - Its Infinite Contain Its Past - Enlightened To Perceive New Periods - Of Pain.

Love Is Everything. And That's All We Know About It.

To Possess Is Past The Instant; We Achieve The Joy, Immortality Contented, Were Anomaly.