As Soon As They're Out Of Your

A Face Peered. All The Grey Night In Chaos Of Vacancy Shone; Nought But Vast Sorrow Was There The Sweet Cheat Gone.

Hi! Handsome Hunting Man Fire Your Little Gun. Bang! Now The Animal Is Dead And Dumb And Done. Nevermore To Peep Again, Creep Again, Leap Again, Eat Or Sleep Or Drink Again. Oh, What Fun!

When Music Sounds, Gone Is The Earth I Know, And All Her Lovelier Things Even Lovelier Grow; Her Flowers In Vision Flame, Her Forest Trees Lift Burdened Branches, Stilled With Ecstasies. When Music Sounds, Out Of The Water Rise Naiads Whose Beauty Dims My Waking Eyes, Rapt In Strange Dream Burns Each Enchanted Face, With Solemn Echoing Stirs Their Dwelling-place. When Music Sounds, All That I Was I Am Ere To This Haunt Of Brooding Dust I Came; And From Time's Woods Break Into Distant Song The Swift-winged Hours, As I Hasten Along.

All But Blind In His Chambered Hole Gropes For Worms The Four-clawed Mole.

The Only Catalogue Of This World's Goods That Really Counts Is That Which We Keep In The Silence Of The Mind.