Enough Is So Vast A Sweetness I

Portrait The World Spreads Out On Either Side No Farther Than The Heart Is Wide.

Wild Nights – Wild Nights! Were I With Thee Wild Nights Should Be Our Luxury! Futile – The Winds – To A Heart In Port – Done With The Compass – Done With The Chart! Rowing In Eden – Ah, The Sea! Might I Moor – Tonight – In Thee!

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

Fame Is A Fickle Food Upon A Shifting Plate.

I Am One Of The Lingering Bad Ones, And So Do I Slink Away, And Pause, And Ponder, And Ponder, And Pause, And Do Work Without Knowing Why - Not Surely For This Brief World, And More Sure It Is Not For Heaven - And I Ask What This Message Of Christ Means.