Then die that she The common fate of all things rare May read in thee;
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A narrow compass! and yet there Dwelt all that 's good, and all that 's fair; Give me but what this riband bound, Take all the rest the sun goes round.
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The lark that shuns on lofty boughs to build, Her humble nest, lies silent in the field.
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Go, lovely rose! Tell her that wastes her time and me That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be.
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To love is to believe, to hope, to know; Tis an essay, a taste of Heaven below!
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The fear of hell, or aiming to be blest, savors too much of private interest.
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Go, lovely rose!
Tell her that wastes her time and me
That now she knows,
When I resemble her to thee,
How sweet and fair she seems to be.
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As a result of the 'hung' election of November 1932. Hitler set in motion the first of the 9 steps he would take in the next 52 days, which would, finally, bring him absolute power.
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There's that word again (harvest)! We persist in using the euphemism wherever the slaughtering of attractive animals is being talked about. Dammit, we kill them. We slaughter them, just like we slaughter cattle. We catch them in steel traps or blow them down with shotguns. We rip off their hides and wear their furs or hang their heads on den walls. We KILL THEM, we don't harvest them!! Someday we'll all grow up and face that reality.
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Shadows fall on even the brightest hours.
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If you don't know what it is, don't mess with it.
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A good idea for lyrics and a melody to expand on.
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Life is never easy for those who dream.
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