My land is bare of chattering folk… The clouds are low along the ridge… And sweet’s the air with curly smo… From all my burning bridges.

Helen of Troy had a wandering gla… Sappho’s restriction was only the… Ninon was ever the chatter of Fra… But oh, what a good girl am I!

Upon the work of Walter Landor I am unfit to write with candor. If you can read it, well and good; But as for me, I never could.

Lady, lady, never start Conversation toward your heart; Keep your pretty words serene; Never murmur what you mean. Show yourself, by word and look,

Hope it was that tutored me, And Love that taught me more; And now I learn at Sorrow’s knee The self-same lore.

Leave me to my lonely pillow. Go, and take your silly posies Who has vowed to wear the willow Looks a fool, tricked out in roses… Who are you, my lad, to ease me?

He’d have given me rolling lands, Houses of marble, and billowing fa… Pearls, to trickle between my hand… Smoldering rubies, to circle my ar… You– you’d only a lilting song,

Tonight my love is sleeping cold Where none may see and none shall… The daisies quicken in the mold, And richer fares the meadow grass. The warding cypress pleads the ski…

Whose love is given over-well Shall look on Helen’s face in hel… Whilst those whose love is thin an… May view John Knox in Paradise.

We shall have our little day. Take my hand and travel still Round and round the little way, Up and down the little hill. It is good to love again;

My answers are inadequate To those demanding day and date And ever set a tiny shock Through strangers asking what’s o’… Whose days are spent in whittling…

How shall I wail, that wasn’t mea… Love has run and left me, oh, what… Dream, then, I must, who never ca… What if I should meet Love, once… What if I met him, walking on the…

Men seldom make passes At girls who wear glasses.