There Is A Smile Of Love, And

I Love Hanging And Drawing And Quartering Every Bit As Well As War And Slaughtering.

He Who Shall Hurt The Little Wren Shall Never Be Beloved By Men.

Joy And Woe Are Woven Fine, A Clothing For The Soul Divine. Under Every Grief And Pine Runs A Joy With Silken Twine.

Down The Winding Cavern We Groped Our Tedious Way, Till A Void Boundless As The Nether Sky Appeared Beneath Us, And We Held By The Roots Of Trees And Hung Over This Immensity; But I Said: If You Please We Will Commit Ourselves To This Void And See Whether Providence Is Here Also.

When A Man Has Married A Wifehe Finds Out Whetherher Knees & Elbows Are Onlyglued Together.