They hold your bill, and you must pay.。，This golden head has wit in it. I live
Still upon her sunless soul。，Distraction is the panacea, Sir!
Who dazzle us, whom we can not revere:。，GROSS CLAY INVADES IT. If the spy you play,
。，In hearing of the ocean, and in sight
On violet twilights lost their fires.。，
To be the God of such a grand sunflower!。，
Eyeing phantoms of the Past,。，'--Why, there's the ale-house bench:
Red rose and white in the garden;。，
Prone Lucifer, descending. Looked he fierce,。，The lover, her devout chagrin doth share;
That hit with wondrous aim on the weak point:。，A traitor broke her sword:
With women: but the little lap-dog breed,。，
Mark where the pressing wind shoots javelin-like。，And eat our pot of honey on the grave.
It is the season of the sweet wild rose,。，'You love . . .? love . . .? love . . .?' all on an indrawn breath.
And the bird sings over the roses.。，My child, you are his, and the ring is worn:
'--Ay, no offence: laugh on,。，Love, that had robbed us so, thus blessed our dearth!
Silent lie her slaughter'd kin.。，I see those dangling ghosts, -
，We are the lords of life, and life is warm.。，Moves dark as yonder midnight ocean's force,