Though A Quarrel In The Streets Is

O, Sorrow! Why Dost Borrow Heart's Lightness From The Merriment Of May?

You Cannot Conceive How I Ache To Be With You: How I Would Die For One Hour.

I Have So Much Of You In My Heart.

Talking Of Pleasure, This Moment I Was Writing With One Hand, And With The Other Holding To My Mouth A Nectarine - How Good How Fine. It Went Down All Pulpy, Slushy, Oozy, All Its Delicious Embonpoint Melted Down My Throat Like A Large, Beatified Strawberry.

The Day Is Gone, And All Its Sweets Are Gone!