Grant Me, O Lord, A Sunny Mind-thy

A Word That Breathes Distinctly Has Not The Power To Die

March Is The Month Of Expectation, The Things We Do Not Know, The Persons Of Prognostication Are Coming Now. We Try To Sham Becoming Firmness, But Pompous Joy Betrays Us, As His First Betrothal Betrays A Boy.

... And Then I Heard Them Lift A Box, And Creak Across My Soul With Those Same Boots Of Lead, Again, Then Space Began To Toll.

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

A Dominie In Gray-- Put Gently Up The Evening Bars-- And Led The Flock Away