Yes, I Answered You Last Night; No,

The Exchange Of Sympathy For Gratitude Is The Most Princely Thing!

Deep Violets, You Liken To The Kindest Eyes That Look On You, Without A Thought Disloyal.

For Me, My Heart, That Erst Did Go Most Like A Tired Child At A Show, That Sees Through Tears The Mummers Leap, Would Now Its Wearied Vision Close, Would Childlike On His Love Repose, Who Giveth His Beloved, Sleep.

A Grave, On Which To Rest From Singing?

Oh, The Little Birds Sang East, And The Little Birds Sang West.