Lilies That Fester Smell Far Worse Than

Nature, As It Grows Again Toward Earth, Is Fashioned For The Journey, Dull And Heavy.

O, Call Back Yesterday, Bid Time Return

Love Bears It Out Even To The Edge Of Doom.

The Benediction Of These Covering Heavens Fall On Their Heads Like Dew, For They Are Worthy To Inlay Heaven With Stars.

Love's Heralds Should Be Thoughts, Which Ten Times Faster Glide Than The Sun's Beams Driving Back Shadows Over Low'ring Hills. Therefore Do Nimble-pinioned Doves Draw Love, And Therefore Hath The Wind-swift Cupid Wings.