The Hearts That Never Lean

I Dwell In Possibilities .

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

I Cannot Help Esteem The 'bird Within The Hand' Superior To The One The 'bush' May Yield Me Or May Not Too Late To Choose Again

I Have An Appetite For Silence.

Fearless--the Cobweb Swings From The Ceiling-- Indolent Housewife--in Daisies--lain!